Harry Doesn't Know
by oliver james troy
Summary: Extremely AU! Ch. 1: Harry, she cooed petting his face, it's not you, it's me. She shook her head and sighed, See, there I go, lying again, no, it was you, she said throwing her hands up in the air, your just so, predictable. Poor predictable Harry, after
1. Predictable Harry

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with Euro-Trip or Harry Potter.**

Harry Doesn't Know

Chapter One: Predictable Harry

The huge crowd full of green, blue, yellow, and maroon gowns threw their caps into the air and cheered as Dumbledore finished the end of his graduation speech. They had made it! After 16 years of Voldemort haunting their every move, Harry had finally destroyed him at the newly restored Godric's Hallow. Now, that they had graduated, life from there on out only seemed positive.

"Ahh, congratulations Hermione!" Harry said wrapping his arms around her and twirling her in the air.

"Harry! Put me down!" she giggled. Hermione hardly ever giggled.

"Well how does it feel?" he asked putting her down and smiling.

She smiled, a slight brush creeping up on her cheeks, "No different than being called the brightest witch of my age since I was eleven." She was positively beaming.

"Oh come on! This has to be different! You've gotten the highest N.E.W.T scores in over eight hundred years, Hermione! You'll be a legend!"

"Like she's not already going to be a legend for being the bossiest girl in Gryffindor," said Ron, joining the circle and hanging his arms over the others' shoulders.

"Ron!" scorned Hermione, trying to sound serious but failing desperately. The trio broke out into fits of laughter, reminiscing of their seven years at Hogwarts. They remembered the late night swims, the decorating of Slytherin's dungeons in merry Gryffindor colours, and all the times Ron had been drunk, ( Hermione and Harry had made it there pleasure to pull some insane prank on him every time he passed out, to teach him the consequences of drinking.).

"Harry!" squealed a voice in the crowd. Cho appeared form behind a group of Ravenclaws and jumped into Harry's awaiting arms, "Congratulations, graduate," she whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, just think about it this summer, it'll be me and you, my cottage, all alone," he said nuzzling her neck.

"Cho!" yelled the group of Ravenclaws, waving her back over.

"Um, actually Harry, we need to talk..."

"Yeah, about what?" He asked, still smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind her ears.

"About me dumping you," she said flatly.

His face dropped.

"What?"

"Oh, Hare-Bear, I just can't take all the lying and cheating anymore," she said in an innocent voice, her hand flattening the rumpled gown on his chest.

"What are you talking about, Cho I never cheated on you."

"I know, that's what makes this so hard," she added averting her eyes from his dumbfounded look. "Harry," she cooed petting his face, "it's not you, it's me." She shook her head and sighed, "See, there I go, lying again, no, it was you," she said throwing her hands up in the air, "your just so, _predictable. _I mean I thought that after you defeated _him_ that you would perk up, gain some spiciness. I never thought you'd still be all quiet and reserved afterwards. You're the By-Who-Lived but you're still rather boring."

Harry was still staring dumbfounded.

"CHO!!" yelled the group of Ravenclaws across the hall.

"Whoops, gotta go, see ya," she said the last in a sing song voice and kissing his cheek.

Harry still stared after her dumbfounded.

"Whoa mate, that was a _bit_ brutal," said Seamus coming up behind him. Harry turned back to find all of the graduated Gryffindors staring at him.

He _still _looked dumbfounded.

"Well, good thing we've got plenty of Ogden's for the party tonight," said Ron trying to lighten the mood.

"Come on, Harry." this time it was Hermione stepping forward and placing a hand on his back along with grabbing his elbow, like he was a senior citizen with schizophrenia.

"Oh my god," said Harry two hours later. Hermione had sent him to his dormitory to get in a quick kip before the feast tonight. Instead of sleeping, he chose to lay immobile on his for poster staring at the ceiling. Ron was currently finishing the packing of his trunk until Harry spoke. He paused, waiting for Harry to elaborate.

"Oh my fucking god, Ron, she broke up with me."

"Well, yeah mate. Life can treat you like shite sometimes, eh?" he really wasn't qualified to help in situations like these._ Where was Hermione when you needed her?_

"Did she really do it in front of the whole hall?" he asked desperately. Ron only nodded, confirming his fears.

"Fuck," he growled, throwing his arms over his face.

"Well look at the brightside mate!" said Seamus cheerfully, coming in from the noisy stair case and shutting the door behind him. "Now all the females will be all over you, asking you if they can _assist_ in any way to _relieve the pain_," he finished winking at him.

"Ahh, the powers of sympathy sex." added Ron nodding his head in agreement.

"Thy force is a powerful one," replied Seamus.

"Lucky bastard," the said together, Ron throwing a pillow at him.

"What are you on about Ron? I thought you said you were in love with your quill-pal, Leigh?" inquired Harry, easily catching the pillow.

"What, your still writing the bloke? I though he only sent an owl to the wrong address last year?" Seamus questioned confused.

"It's not a bloke Seamus, Leigh is a girl!" said a protesting Ron, "all I said was that she was an intriguing person." he said defiantly, eyes now downcast.

"Ah yes mate, but then again how many times is the word 'intriguing' in Ron Weasley's vocabulary?" Harry ducked a trainer that was aimed at his head by a protesting Ron.

"Better be careful Ron," said Hermione entering the dorm followed closely by Ginny, "all these German girls like to do is lure you into false pretences, next thing you know they want to 'arrange a meeting'," she gestured doing air quotes, "where she will gas you, and stuff you in the back of her cellar and make a wind chime out of your genitals." she finished, sitting next to Harry on his bed who had managed to crack a rare smile through her lecture.

"Where'd you say this girl was from?" asked Ginny, sitting on top of Dean's trunk.

"Berlin, Germany."

"Hey, you know Luna Lovegood moved there last summer," Ginny supplied randomly.

"Can we not mention Loony Lovegood and my genitals in the same conversation please?" Ron asked, arms out as if to cease any unwanted retorts.

"Easy Ron, don't get your knickers in a twist." said Neville, coming through the dormitory door. "You lot better get downstairs, the party is about to start."

Hermione looked to Harry.

"Can you handle it?" she asked him privately.

"Screw it, I'm not going to let Cho ruin my graduation night," he said standing up and pulling Hermione with him.


	2. Harry Really Doesn't Know

****

Disclaimer: I do knot own anything remotely related to Harry Potter, or Euro-Trip.

Harry Doesn't Know

Chapter 2: Harry Really Doesn't Know

If Gryffindors were known for anything, it was their courage and bravery, their loyalty, and their knowledge of how to throw one hell of a party. Arrangements for the Gryffindor Graduation Party, ( Yes, it deserved to be capitalized.) had been set into play almost two months before graduation. So many things had to be done and everyone who was someone played a vital role in facilitating with the plans. First, the Gryffindors knew that all of the graduating class (except those Slytherin wankers!) and then some wanted to go to this party. Gryffindor's common room surely wasn't going to fit nearly the amount of people intended, so one task was clearing out the entire Gryffindor tower. In order for everyone to have unlimited access to the common room they had to get the Fat Lady out of her portrait, (Hermione and Ginny devised a bullet proof plan, telling the Fat Lady that Lord Gryffindor himself desired a chat with her down on the main floor, cast a _mobilcorpus _on a conjured boulder to leave the portrait propped open, and viola! Unlimited access!

The next object was food, which was unanimously passed on to Ron as his responsibility. The job was made easy for Ron with the invisibility cloak, the marauder's map, a huge chilled crate, and the marvellous shrinking spell.

Next would be the music, that no one knew that Dean had a hobby for. Eight massive stereos were set up in various places through out Gryffindor tower so there would be smooth and equal ministrations, all night long.

A party means dozens of good memories, and what's the use of good memories if they can't be preserved on a roll of film? So naturally, Gryffindor's very own Colin Creevey was allowed admittance to the party on a few terms: one, he couldn't drink, two, he had to stay _responsible_, and three, he had to document memories of everyone- not just Harry.

And last on the list, but certainly not the least less important factor: entertainment. And along with entertainment came two names:

Fred and George.

The twins insisted on keeping their work a secret before the night of the party. Which of course meant that it would be nothing short of amazing. After all, the twins never had a graduation party to go to.

This was surely going to be the most phenomenal party Hogwarts has seen since the Marauder's time.

Oh, they would be _so _proud.

The party was a rage, people laughing and dancing in every corner of Gryffindor tower. The six had barely made it down the stairs before they were forced to squeeze into the over crowded common room.

"Neville," questioned Ginny, "I thought you said the party was _about_ to start?"

"Well that was two and a half minutes ago. What can I say, the word travelled fast," he yelled over the now blaring music.

"This is _so_ against fire code," Hermione commented as she was forced to press into Harry's chest in order to move any where.

Harry smiled at her, "'Mione, they're witches and wizards, I'm pretty sure if a fire where to start _someone_ would distinguish it, my little parole officer."

"Shut up, Harry," she laughed, swatting at his arm.

They had finally made it out into the hall which was still absolutely bubbling with people. The portraits looked like they were in shock from the events that were going on. Bright blue cups levitated in the air. Harry held up his hand and summoned two cups, and handed one to Hermione. After Harry had taken a swig from his cup Parvati Patil made her way over to Harry.

"Hey Harry," she ventured seeing what type of mood he was in.

"What's up Parvati?"

"Well I heard about the whole Cho incident. She's a whore." she stated plainly.

"Ah, well, that's very sweet of you," he said raising his cup to her and looking to turn in the opposite direction. She caught his arm and turned him back to face her. He impatiently took a drink from his cup.

"Well I want you to know that if you ever need to talk about it with someone," her hand had travelled it's way from his elbow to his chest, moving southward, "I'm here for you."

Harry half choked on his whiskey and immediately pulled her hand away from his belt buckle, "Uh, thanks for the offer," he said, looking wildly around for Hermione.

Parvati simply shrugged, "You know where to find me."

__

'Oh boy,' Harry thought, taking another deep gulp from his cup, rendering it empty. In the time it took him to summon another cup and make his way to Hermione's back in the crowd, a fast song started playing, which left every one bumping and grinding to the rhythm. Harry seen an old sod from Ravenclaw that Hermione was talking to extend his hand to her. Before the invitation could leave his mouth, Harry came up from behind and whispered, "Dance with me, Hermione." When she turned around they were in such close proximity that she didn't really have a choice, so in a Ron like gesture, she knocked back the contents of the holy blue cup and started rocking her hips to match Harry's. Much to both Harry and Hermione's dismay the song eventually ended, in which during the time Harry and Hermione had emptied another three cups each.

"I've been brainstorming ideas on what to do to Ron tonight," said Harry mirthfully lifting a pointed finger in the air as if to boast, and also summoning two more cups.

She gave him a sly grin shortly before everyone's attention was directed to the centre back wall of the hall. A stage they hadn't noticed before was there, with Dean (a blue cup of whiskey in hand) and a microphone on top. Dean tapped on top of the microphone, calling for peoples attention.

"Oi! Everyone! I'd just like to welcome you to Gryffindor's Graduation Bash!" he yelled throwing his hands in the air and letting the crowd roar at him.

"Yes, I know, I know, we Gryffindors are bloody amazing, but are you have a fucking good time or what?!" Again, throwing his arms over his head and letting the crowd make more noise then a Hungarian Horntail about to give birth.

"Alright good, that's all that matters, but if you're having a good time now, you'll be having an absolutely smashing time in a few moments, because I've a surprise for you," he said balancing himself on the microphone, "and no, I'm not getting naked." The crowd booed and whistled at Dean, while Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shared a laugh. "Okay, maybe later," the crowd cheered, " but for now please make yourself at home, get sloshed, find that significant someone and give 'em a wet kiss, and enjoy, for your ears only, The Weird Sisters!" he finally shouted nearly falling off the stage. The crowd roared as various instruments started placing themselves on stage. The band finally jumped on stage and stared at their audience. The singer grabbed the mike and said into it,

"This one is for the feisty, and freakiest little sex puppet I know, the delicious Cho Chang, happy anniversary, baby," he finished, tonguing Cho as she leapt on stage in a tank and short mini skirt. The lights dimmed and the guitar started blaring along with the man's very catchy tune.

"_WHOOOOOA!_

Harry doesn't know that Cho and me

Do it in my flat every Sunday,

She tells him she's in church

But she doesn't go,

Still she's on her knees and Harry doesn't know!"

Harry had regained the dumbfounded expression as he gazed up at stage, watching Cho basically hump the wanker's hip. He quickly drank the remaining whiskey, smacked his lips together and summon another and took a straight shot of it.

"Who wants to play Whiskey Pong?" he asked pathetically.

__

'It was going to be a long night.'

****

I knew posting on this sight meant I wouldn't get nearly as many reviews as the other site this is posted on but please, if you take the time to read this take the 2 seconds to give me a little smiley face or frowny face in a review.


	3. Proclaimed Love and Fuzzy Vision

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything remotely related to Harry Potter or Euro-Trip.**

Thank you's to ginsensu, munlleca, eternalsolaris, and Silver Rain Drops- seriously mates, I appreciate it more than you know

**Harry Doesn't Know**

**Chapter 3**: Proclaimed Love and Fuzzy Vision

Fuzzy.

Everything was fuzzy.

His vision- fuzzy.

Memories from last night- fuzzy.

The head of hair he was laying next to- fuzzy.

The bra that had found it's way strapped onto Harry's chest- fuzzy... and pink.

Harry emitted a low groan not daring to open his eyes.

After moments of not being able to drift back into a post-drunken slumber, Harry peeled one eye open cautiously. He was in the 7th year boy's dormitory along with Ginny, Seamus, Dean, Neville, Lavender, Susan, hundreds of those devilish blue cups, and Hermione who was laying at his side with her head buried into the crook of his arm. He closed his eye, starting to remember some of the events from last night. Clips of ping pong, muggle playing cards, a realistic looking bucking bull with Ron duct-taped on top, him and the residents of the room playing cops and robbers, and telling ghost stories of Boobie the seahorse littered his mind.

"I'm never drinking again," he said to himself bringing his hand up to wipe the drool of his mouth and realigning his glasses.

"Mmm, you say that every time, Harry," rasped Hermione from beside him. He turned to look at her. She had rolled over on her back with one hand on her forehead and the other pinching the bridge of her nose. She was in a white bikini with a big dollar sign in red ink drawn across her abdomen.

"Your one to talk. I guess you where the money?"

"And you were the robber?" she observed eyeing the black stripes drawn all across his body. "Sweetie, I think that bra is just a tad to big for you."

"Hey," he said in a fake innocence, grabbing on of his faux boobs, " it doesn't hurt to dream."

She let out a laugh followed by a quick grown, "Ughh what happened- no, don't answer that." Harry could tell she was remembering some details from last night by the way her brow furrowed. "Wow, we just keep getting better and better with things to do to Ron don't we?" she smiled as she remembered muggle taping an intoxicated Ron onto a stagnant bull, before it started it's cycle of bucking again.

"Practice makes perfect." Harry breathed, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Yeah well, I don't think I'll be having many nights like these from now on," she sighed.

"When do you leave for Paris?"

"Krammer wanted to meet with me in his office before we leave, he said around 10:30."

"Er, Hermione-"

"It's 10:30 isn't it?"

"Afraid so."

In a matter of thirty seconds Hermione had jumped up off the bed (almost falling over, mind you), transfigured herself clean and into a professional suit, banished her trunk to McGonagall's office (she'd be taking the floo out), said a hurried apology and farewell to Harry, tripped over Dean and was on her way out of the tower.

After a few minutes of stumbling over himself and the other bodies in the room, Harry managed to put on some decent clothes, and then again started stumbling out of the dorm.

"Sobriety potion awaits," he muttered to himself clanging on to the rail of the spiral staircase. "Why? Why does the bloody stair case have to be in spirals?"

To his surprise, the common room was spotless save for Ron huddled by the window, (_'How'd he escape the bull?'_) but there was not one blue cup in site.

he thought impressively thinking of the self-abusive house elf, probably making shoes and necklaces out of the cups. 

"Alright there, Ron?" he asked, wondering over to his ginger haired friend. Ron's eyes were red and blotchy, his face pale, and his hair ruffled. He was staring persistently out the window. He shook his head.

"I just made the biggest mistake of my life," he said somberly. Harry raised his eyebrows in confusion.

"Who'd you impregnate?"

"Harry this is serious! Last night I-I.. I got a letter from Leigh last night." he said still sadly staring out the window.

"How'd you impregnate Leigh over a letter?"

"No! I-I, I was really drunk, Dobby had just released me from that bull, by the way _thanks_ mate," he added sarcastically, "anyway, Dobby told me I had a letter, and it was from Leigh. In the letter she told me she was coming to England asked if I wanted to get together with her. And I-I..."

"You told her you didn't want children?" Harry ventured, ducking a blow from Ron.

"Actually no, you mindless twat. I took Hermione's advice and told her to keep her hands off my genitals."

"Hmm, well write her back and tell her you were drunk and it was a mistake," he said simply. Ron shook his head,

"It's not that simple, she owl blocked me. She's unlisted as well so I can't even call her felly tone."

"What the hell is a 'felly tone'?" asked a mumbling Seamus coming down the stairs. "Whoa, this place is clean." Seamus still had the word 'Police' magically stamped to his forehead from last night's escapades.

"Well-" Harry began before Ron quickly cut him off.

"I'm in love with Leigh. I'm in love with my quill pal." He stated. "But I've made a mistake that I can't reverse. I can't even contact her."

Seamus looked from Ron to Harry, "Does he always sound this sober the night after a party?"

"Shut up! Someone just tell me what to do!"

Harry looked at Ron seriously for a few moments before his mouth opened and turned back to Seamus, " Seamus why are you wearing my bath robe?"

"Oh, I'm sorry- but somebody pissed all over mine last night!"

"Oh you two are fucking hopeless!" shouted Ron, closing his eyes and throwing his head against the window pane.

"So go to Berlin." suggested Seamus in a way like it was the most obvious answer.

"Wait, he can't just go to Berlin." said Harry rolling his eyes like it was rather apparent.

"Yes he can."

"Yes I can," agreed Ron lifting his head off the panel.

"What about your internship for Puddlemere?" Harry queried with raised eyebrows.

"But what about your love for Leigh?" countered Seamus. Harry sagged his shoulders in defeat.

"I'm going to Berlin." Ron said triumphantly standing up.

"Good on you mate," said Seamus clapping him over the back and giving Harry a winning look as he headed back upstairs.

"I'm going to Germany!" Ron stated again excitedly.

"No mate," _her smooth and fake innocent voice played in his head again, 'Your just so, predictable,'_, " _we're_ going to Germany."

'But will someone please get me sobriety potion first!'

Ahh so there off!

I will say it again, this story is extremely, EXTREMELY AU! Hell, if JKR seen this she'd probably hunt me down and smack me over the head with a shovel a few times.

If you may have wondered about Ron being extremely OOC here I wanted it to have already dawned on him that he had fallen in love and fucked up by the time Harry got to him.

_Please, take the two seconds to review a smiley face or frowny face_


	4. Muggle Air Plans and Football Hooligans

Disclaimer: I do not own anything remotely related to Harry Potter, or Euro-trip.

Harry Doesn't Know

**Chapter 4**: Muggle Air Plans and Football Hooligans

"Ron, how are we going to get to Berlin?" Harry was confused all right, so far he had been to caught up in wondering if this was the right thing to be doing to realise that him and Ron, were currently walking down a busy muggle street in London, with just the simple necessities in a knapsack thrown over their shoulders.

"Don't worry, I got it covered."

"Is that supposed to comfort me?"

"Well remember when I told you about Charlie going to Egypt?" he asked as they waited to cross the street.

"No Ron, you never told me that story."

"Oh, well intrantional and international floo are two different things-"

"No!" Harry mocked sarcastically, as they crossed the street and climbed up on the sidewalk and entered a busy muggle building.

"Yeah," said Ron, continuing like it was also the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard as well, "so that was out of the picture, we can't floo since we don't have anyone's grate address there, and an unauthorized portkey would take too long."

"So?"

"So, we are taking what I believe you call an air plan!" He finished stopping in front of Harry with his arms outstretched and twirling in circles. A Japanese family a few feet away were shaking their heads and giving Harry's ginger haired best mate dirty looks.

Harry laughed, "Do you mean an air _plane_?"

"That's what I said," continued Ron, resuming his strides to a counter that had no line. Harry looked at the display board behind the counter which had various air lines and numbers written on it in neon blue writing. Harry glanced down at the little golden plate that was sitting on the surface of the counter.

"We're going to be couriers?" he asked Ron, who had already started filling out the paper work.

"Yeah, this is what Charlie did. Since we don't have the most sufficient funding, we have to spend as little money as possible." Ron was wrestling with the airport's pen that was linked to the counter. "Bloody muggle utensils! How is anyone supposed to write if the bloody string keeps strangling their arms! Reminds me of one of those Argentinean Sticking Worms Loony Lovegood used to talk about-"

"Ron, you know we don't have to do this, be couriers I mean. I had Dobby convert some of my money from Gringotts into pounds a while ago," he said pulling out a thick wad of 500 pound notes from his pocket.

"We should still save as much as possible," he said, continuing with the form.

"You really did your homework this time, huh?" asked Harry stuffing the muggle money back into his pocket. Ron cracked a grin.

"Do you think Hermione would be proud?"

"Are you kidding me!" exclaimed Harry, "If Hermione even came close to finding out you _can_ be like this she would have you hanging from your heels until blood started pouring out of your ears." Ron laughed innocently while Harry still had his serious look on.

Ron stopped, "Dear Merlin, she would."

The two friends shared a laugh before acquitting to standing in silence with smiles on their faces.

"I need a direct flight to Berlin," Ron told the attendant, who had just came out from the back room. "Neville?" Ron asked in surprise upon seeing the bloke's face.

"Ron, Harry? What are you doing in an air port?" Neville asked curiously, hopefully not to embarrassed.

"We're going to Germany, what are you doing here?" Harry interrogated back.

"Work here for the summer. Gran s'pects I should learn all aspects of adulthood, including working at a muggle airport, since you never know where your life will take you," he recited. You could tell they were his Gran's words exactly.

"I'm sorry mate," said Ron, "that sounds truly horrible." Harry nodded his head solemnly, "But we're kind of in a rush, we need two tickets to Berlin as couriers, quickest as possible."

"Okay, let me check." Neville buried his head behind the computer screen.

Harry caught Ron's eye. "We're really going to do this, huh?" he asked making himself believe it.

"Oh, we're doing this-"

"Sorry guys, but we don't have a direct flight to Berlin for another week." reported Neville, coming up from his computer.

"A week? But I need to go to Berlin now!" Ron shouted in disbelief, attracting more looks from various multi-cultured people.

"Uh," he voiced, checking his screen, "I can get you to Dublin later today which from there will get you to Berlin late tomorrow night?"

"We'll take it." Ron laid down a couple muggle notes that Harry handed him. Neville handed them the tickets then took the cash off the counter.

"Longbottom! What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" an anonymous voice roared from behind the counter.

"D-d-depositing the money sir," Neville squeaked as a medium size man with a few strands of hair plastered across his scalp, wearing a blue vest with a gold pin of _'Manager' _appeared behind him.

"What did I tell you specifically? Never- EVER- hand tickets out before you have the money in the register!" the manager screamed into his ear.

"I'm s-s-sorry, s-sir." Neville had his shoulders raised and his head ducked to prevent any more slobber-attacks on his ear.

"Oh, your a disgrace," huffed the manager, turning on his heel and storming through the back door. Neville was still shaking as he put the money in the register.

"Neville," reprimanded Ron, "You shouldn't take that shite from the wanker!"

"That wanker is my boss, there's nothing I can do." Neville replied, ashamed of his actions. Harry shared a look with Ron, who nodded his head.

"Come with us."

Those three words made Neville's head snap up like a lightening bolt. "What?"

"Come with us, Neville!" Harry and Ron said again excitedly.

He downcast his eyes again, "No, I really can't, my Gran would kill me if I blew this job."

"Oh come one Neville! Who better than us to teach you some self confidence, eh? In Germany no less!" Neville looked up at his friends, who both had hope mirroring in their eyes. He opened his mouth to respond-

"LONGBOTTOM! Look at the mess you've made in here you imbecile!" shrieked the manager again coming from the back office.

"Your resp- what the bloody hell do you think your doing boy?!"

"Quitting," Neville muttered as he threw the company vest he wore to the floor and hopped over the counter to join the beaming pair of Gryffindors. "I'm going to Germany," Harry nudged Neville in the side and whispered something into his ear, "We're going to Germany, a-asshole." Harry and Ron cheered, both clapping Neville on the shoulder and dragging him away with them, jeering at the fumbled manager as they left.

"Well I'm proud of you, Nev," said Harry as they broke out into the crowded street, "I honestly didn't know if you had it in you."

"Yeah well I think I'm going to be doing a lot of adjusting this summer." he said quietly, still not believing what he had just done.

"Says here we don't depart till 7 tonight," reported Ron, reading off the tickets, "that'll give you enough time to go pack some things Neville," he finished putting the tickets back in the envelope.

"Uh-oh business Ronnie is back," Harry teased pinching the side of his cheek.

"Shove off, prat."

"Has it ever occurred to you, that we've lived here our whole life, yet we've never actually seen what this city has to offer?" asked Neville walking down the mouth of the alley to meet Ron and Harry.

"What the hell is that?" Ron asked referencing to the book in his hands.

"This is Robert Krammer's _A Guide To Europe_, it's quite an interesting read."

"I'll bet," Harry commented stifling a laugh.

"Your taking a guide book with you? What happened to packing the bare necessities?"

Ignoring Harry's comment and Ron's question, Neville continued on with his charade, "Er, right. Well what do you want to do? There's the Tower of London, Buckingham Palace..."

"Ehh," Ron was obviously uninterested in Neville's options.

"There's no drinking age," added Harry with a sly grin.

"There we go," Ron said, leading the other two to a bar across the street entitled, 'The Feisty Goat.'

The three joked at the name as they entered the bar, Ron walking up to the counter and looking around. There was a group of large men, all wearing red, huddled in a corner. The group quieted and slowly looked up at the intruders with dangerous glints in their eyes. The three boys gulped in fear.

"Football hooligans," Harry observed, his eyes wondering over the men's various tattoos and eye patches.

"Hey, this isn't Buckingham Palace!" Ron tried, nudging Harry and Neville and starting for the door.

"Oi!" an intimidating voice said loudly in front of the trio, stopping them from their escape. "Who the bloody hell are you?" The towering man was muscular, wearing a black tailored jacket over a red collared polo, with a shaved head and a solid stare, sure to make any little girl quiver.

Neville quivered.

"This is a private members bar," the man continued, stepping forward which lead the three boys shuffling backwards, "exclusively for the supporters of the greatest football team in the world; Manchester United." he said the last part, pulling his jacket forward in a sophisticated manor, "Now please, enlighten me, who the fuck are ya?" he screamed, spit flying from his mouth.

"Th-that is a good question, and... Neville?" Harry supplied, him and Ron taking a step backward so Neville was alone in front of the glaring man.

"Er, we're the Manchester United fan club- from Scotland," Harry passed a disbelieving look at Neville.

"If your Manchester United supporters, sing the Manchester United song." the boss demanded fiercely. A supporter behind the boss gave Neville a toothy grin.

Neville winced, "Uh, I'm sorry- I-I'm not much of a singer." The boss smashed a bottle of liquor someone from behind handed him and emitted a war cry.

"Ahh!! Sing!"

"_My baby takes the morning train,_" Ron looked to Neville in shock, _'We're done for'_ he thought miserable as Neville continued, "_he works from nine to five and then,_" the hooligans began taking out their various choices of weaponry, including all but not limited to knives, batons, beer bottles, chains, spiked brass knuckles..., "_he takes another home again,_" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, _'Goodbye Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Remus, Tonks,-'._ Neville winced as he seen a ferocious man crack his knuckles, "_T-to find me..._ watching the Manchester United football team! Eh?" he finished triumphantly looking around at the hooligans, "the best freaking team in all the land, whoo-hoo!" he shouted pumping his fist in the air.

The look on the man's face looked all sorts of insulted. Neville gulped, letting his adam's apple bob up and down a few times. Harry and Ron just looked at each other with unreadable expressions.

"Pretty good," nodded the head hooligan, "pretty damn good lads!" he finally yelled pumping both brick sized fists into the air. The men around him also cheered, raising their weapons in the air. The three were both just standing there in utter surprise, not daring to move before the head hooligan ordered, " A round of beer for the Scottish boys!"

"Where the bloody hell did you come up with that song?" Ron asked, gratefulness and confusion mixed in his tone.

"I-I, it's one of Gran's favourites." he stuttered taking the beer given to him from the head hooligan, Bernie, (who had cracked them open using his eyes...). Ron and Harry also took the proffered drinks as the crowd started singing in the tune of Scotland's song in a drunken chant.

"

He works from 9 to 5 and then,

He takes another home again,

Sheena Easton- Morning Train (9 to 5)

_**-Please take the two seconds to review a smiley face or a frowny face-**_

**And thank you to Junebug2006, theidiotgirl, loaned, munlleca, Silver Rain Drops, RavenAmeraDreams, ginsensu, and Paige Marshall- be jealous because they're amazing [:**


	5. We're Not Going to Berlin

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Harry Potter or Euro-Trip

Harry Doesn't Know

**Chapter 5**: We're Not Going To Berlin

Hogwarts, A History 

"NOO!" Harry screamed, jumping so high he fell off the couch he had passed out on. He looked around, realigning his glasses. _'It was a dream,'_ he sighed in ease.

"I'm never drinking again," Harry voiced out loud, wiping his mouth and climbing back onto the couch. Once resting safely on the couch, he put his head back and looked up. He was met with a dazzling baby blue sky. "What the hell?" he wondered lifting his head back up and looking around. Moving forestry were on both sides of his peripherals. "Ron, wake up," he said elbowing his snoring mate besides him.

"But I don't want to wear the pink one," he giggled in his sleep. _'Well I'm glad to see someone having a pleasant dream,' _Harry thought rolling his eyes.

"RON!"

"Huh?" he voiced, his eyes snapping open and his head recoiling off the neck wrest. "Whoa, wild night," he groaned, stretching and cracking his back in his seat.

"You think? Notice anything a little off?" Harry questioned, raising his eyebrows at the still awakening Ron.

"Uh," Ron stood up from the couch and looked around, "uhh, what that hell?" The wind had picked up and was now tussling the standing Ron and Harry's hair. "Harry where the hell are we going?" Ron yelled, running over to the railing of the bus and looking down. Ron's eyes met the asphalt and white lines of the highway. Harry was currently trying to dig out Neville from the huge tub of footballs.

"Oh man, where are we?" asked Neville once he was free from the tank of black and red balls. He was in the fetal position holding his head like it would fall off at any moment.

"Good question!" roared Ron from the rail side.

"We don't know where we are, except that we are driving on the highway in the hooligans' bus." Explained Harry simply.

"Oh- uh, don't worry. If anything happens my Gran will find us." Neville said still on his knees holding his hands up as to calm down Ron.

.o.o.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE QUIT?!" bellowed Neville's grandmother, shaking some poor innocent ticketer over the counter. "Where did he go?!" Her stuffed vulture's tail feathers were poking the young and pimpled ticketer in the face.

"P-pl-please miss, I d-don't know where he w-went." the boy squirmed. Congratulations to the ticketer, because he was about to get front row seats to Neville's Gran's coffee scented breath and pitbull temper.

"Well you better find out you little punk. And pull your pants up!"

.o.o.

Harry, Ron, and Neville descended the stairs down into the first floor of the bus and heard the sounds of loud voices, clinking bottles, and hard rock music.

"Hey you scallywags!" shouted one of the Hooligans, jumping up from his seat and shaking Harry's collar. Ron continued on his way, disentangling himself from the bottle holding bodies and looking for Bernie. He spotted him sitting at a table discussing something that sounded very important to his other co-supporters.

"Look, given the current geopolitical climate, all European countries should have a seat at the table." His listeners nodded their heads and took swigs from their beers, "Except those fucking Ities. I hate them Italian bastards, you know what I mean?" he said querying at some of his mates.

"Excuse me," interrupted Ron taking a seat next to him, five bottles were suddenly offered to him. Ron shook them off.

"Oh hello boyo!" said Bernie grinning at the tasselled haired Ron.

"Hi, uh what happened last night?"

Bernie laughed, "Ha, you got steamed up, pissed as a fart I tell ya, too much sauce son!" he finished winking at him. Ron looked sick. "Don't worry though, I came and got ya- so you wouldn't miss the trip!"

"W-what trip? Where are we going?" Ron was positively in shock. Might as well feed the tickets to Berlin to one of the hooligans.

"What do you mean, 'where are we going'?" Bernie laughed clapping Ron on the shoulder. "We're going to see the Mighty Reds through the frogs in Paris! Aren't we boys!" The bus cheered and raised their bottles in the air.

"Dear god," Ron got up and pushed his way to Harry and Neville who were sitting down next to a chattering man with bug eyes and a shirt that said, "KILL SOMETHING".

"So I tell the swamp donkey to sock it before I give her a trunky in her tradesman's entrance and have her lick me yard balls!" the man barked out and emptied his drink all in one chug. Neville was just staring at the man in shock. He hadn't a clue people could even fit those words in the same sentence. Harry was in awe.

"Wow. You guys are on a completely different level of swearing over here." The man next to him nodded his head, appreciating the comment.

"Harry? Neville? Harry, Neville we're going to Paris." Ron told them finally breaking through the barricade of bodies.

"Oh we know. Cesil told us." Harry motioned over to the bug eyed man. "Isn't this great? Hermione's in Paris!"

"Leigh's in Berlin. We're not going to Berlin. What are we gonna do? We need a plan." Ron finished spelling out the seriousness of the situation.

"Holy hell," said Neville looking up to Ron like he was the great wizard, Merlin, himself, "your acting like Harry. Predictable Harry."

"Hey," Harry warned at Neville sounding offended. "Ron relax, Paris is practically a suburb of Berlin. It's a nothing commute." Ron opened his mouth to respond before Harry cut him off going back into lecture mode, "That's why France and Germany have always been allies." Cesil nodded his head in confirmation, "Allies."

"What- are you still drunk?" Ron asked in disbelief. Harry tilted his head as if he was asking his subconscious the same question. Neville had his head lolled back against the window, passed out again (which made Harry proud to see him that sloshed).

"Okay, okay," said Ron, his fingers rubbing his temples and in very deep thought (something that was very foreign to Ron unless it was which dessert to eat first), "first thing in Paris we go to the airport and get tickets to Berlin. Agreed?"

"Agreed!" chanted both Harry and Cesil raising one beer and fist in the air together. Cesil emitted a loud belch. Ron only shook his head and clapped a hand to his forehead.

.o.o.

Please, take no offense to the meaningless stab at Italians. This is _fiction._

_-Please take the two seconds to review a smiley face or a frowny face-_

And a big thank you to loaned who is pretty amazing being my only reviewer for last chapter. Honestly, out of 816 hits for Ch. 4 only one person reviewed... but anyways loaned is amazing thank you!


	6. The 3 Mariachi's and A Nice Bum In Paris

Disclaimer: I do not own anything remotely related to Harry Potter or Euro-Trip.

**Harry Doesn't Know**

**Chapter 6**: The 3 Mariachi's and A Nice Bum In Paris

The horn of the hooligan's bus was blaring, honking and tooting, all the way into Paris.

"Get out of the way ya snail eating puffs! Move your ass you Gaelic fucking garlic bread tossers! Oh piss off! Learn how to drive will ya, ya good for nothin' French twit. Are ya gonna head butt me mate? Oh fuck off! Get in here and say that, you froggy Itie shities!"

"Well at least he got us here quickly," commented Harry, sitting calmly across from Ron and Neville who were in total shock, and looked like they were about to get sick.

"Yeah, and they drove worse than the bloody night bus. It's a damn good thing that bloke looks intimidating and worse than a werewolf in heat or I'd think half of France would be after our arses by now." Ron looked outside the bus window where cars were headed straight for the massive bus.

"You wanna beep, we'll beep ya bastard all over your fucking nose!" Bernie was again yelling at the front of the bus. "Get outta the way, piss off you fuckin' toad." Ron looked back at Harry with an exasperated look.

"Be thankful."

The bus crashed to a stop, and the whole bus started shouting their support for Manchester. Bernie took his jacket of and stepped off the bus sophisticatedly. The smile on his face as he looked around suddenly vanished as he focused his attention somewhere down the street.

"Hey lads!" called Bernie holding his hands up, "That wanker's got a frog football shirt on!" The bus started to file out around Bernie staring the little man who had turned to look at them down. The poor bloke was shaking in his slippers, his bag of vegetables convulsing in his grip. The men started their routine, taking out their weapons.

"Let's give this nancy a fucking good kicking! Ahh!" he cried in battle stance, the rest of his crew running down the alley at the Frenchman who had abandoned his vegetables and sprinted around the corner of the street.

Harry, Ron, and Neville were last off the bus. "Well alright then, let's head off to the nearest station!" Ron clapped his hands together and took off in the opposite direction of the hooligans.

"Come on you bloody traffic light."

"Ron, I highly doubt that one traffic light is going to be the difference of you and Leigh spending the rest of your life together. Chill out mate."

"No Harry, it's not the time I'm worried about, it's these bloody mariachi singers behind us. Annoying the bloody hell out of me, they are." Harry spinned around and looked at three figures, one with a guitar, one with two little drums wrapped around his enormous stomach, and another standing single, all wearing vibrant red shirts which were sparkling in the light of the street lamps. Harry let out a laugh.

"Come on, Ron. Poor blokes are probably only trying to make a quid or two." Neville prodded the moody Ron in the arm.

"They don't have to sing so bloody loud or dress like queers though," he attempted, pressing the button for the street crossing signal again.

"What's wrong with singing? Neville likes it. _My baby takes the morning train, he works from 9 to 5 and then!_!" Neville joined in with Harry, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and swinging delightfully, "_He takes another home again to find me waiting for him!_" A passerby stopped and smiled at them, throwing a few coins next to their backpacks. Harry turned around and winked at Ron, who shook his head defeated.

"Oi, what the hell are you on about? This is our corner, go find somewhere else!" yelled a British voice a couple yards away. The trio turned around to see one of the mariachi singers fuming at them. _'Holy hell,'_ Harry thought, looking the singer up and down.

"Malfoy?" Ron choked out with wide eyes. Malfoy froze, his shoulders sagging, making the shirt even more baggy. The two figures behind Malfoy turned around to reveal Crabbe and Goyle. They just looked at each other and then back at Malfoy waiting for instructions. Harry started laughing and Neville quietly shaking with laughter. The trio shared one bemused look before Ron had fallen to the ground in laughter, Harry was bent over holding his sides, and Neville had a hand to his mouth and the other on a rail to support himself from folding over.

"Sh-shut up," Malfoy stuttered, his silver eyes looking around to see if anyone was staring.

"Malfoy- I had no idea you were so... multi-talented." Ron said regaining his posture.

"Shut up! My father-"

"Is sending you owls from Azkaban telling you to stand on busy French street corners singing ungodly tunes and wearing," Harry looked him up and down and started to chuckle again, "...that. Are you sure your father really loves you?"

"I'll have you know Potter that these shirts attract a lot of women. _Real_ women," he said smugly, folding his arms across his chest.

"And where are these women of yours? Getting the hair shaved off their backs and attending an afternoon physciatric evaluation?" laughed Ron. Crabbe started to nod seriously before Malfoy elbowed him in the stomach. "Oh we are jealous."

"Piss off this corner!" Malfoy shouted his temper starting to rise.

"Your just mad because people like us more," said Harry also crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his head up. Two could play Malfoy's little game…

"Haha, please Potter, you don't have half the skill it takes to be a street talent." Malfoy glanced over at some ladies walking up in their luxurious fur coats, "watch and learn." Malfoy strolled up to the poised women and did a series of ballet twirls around then ending exactly in front of them bent in a bow with his arm extended. The crowd applauded the performance and the dark skinned women took Malfoy's offered hand and let him kiss it. Harry and Ron shared a look, grinned and then pushed Neville into the centre of circle.

Neville looked back terrified. "Confidence, Neville," Harry and Ron said together. Neville looked around at the on lookers. They were expecting something from him and growing impatient. One young lady smiled politely at him. Neville cleared his throat and walked up to the woman. "Mademoiselle," he said holding his hand to her.

"Mousier," she took his hand and let him guide her to the centre. A ballroom ballad started playing from somewhere when Neville lead off, swinging the woman in tedious circles, back in forth, in and out, up and down. At the end of the dance he bowed and she curtsied formally. The crowd cheered, with Ron and Harry yelping out their approval.

"Right on of you Neville!"

"That'll teach the twit, Nev!"

Neville merely smiled and thanked the lady with his eyes. She walked back off into the crowd and Neville turned to see a furious Draco Malfoy coming at him. Neville froze, "Listen Longbottom, your pansy arse maybe good at swinging some bitch around on your arm but I will not let you stand here and take over our corner!"

Neville just stood there with his mouth slightly parted. Harry and Ron were waiting on Neville to make a move before stepping in. "Listen to yourself Malfoy, you sound like a hooker in east London protecting her district. You can have it, we're leaving anyway. But I bet there's one dance move you don't know," Neville finished with dignity, his eyebrows raised. Ron and Harry shared a muddled look.

"Oh yeah? And what would that be?"

Neville smiled, "I call this the nut cracker." Neville swung his leg back and rammed it into the centre of Malfoy's tight pants. Malfoy emitted a high pitch scream that made a few members of the audience cover their ears. Once Malfoy had fallen to the ground the crowd again erupted in cheers, throwing various sized coins at Neville.

"Alright Neville!" yelled Harry and Ron coming up to him clapping him on the shoulder. "Ron, I think we're making progress with him!"

"That felt good."

"I don't think poor Drakie is going to be planning on children in his future," commented Ron, looking at Malfoy with his hands gripped on his pants.

"Let's get out of here, people are crossing." Neville told them modestly, pointing at the cross walk.

"Okay we are not leaving the station until our train comes in," Ron told them handing Harry the envelope containing three train passes to Crans Sur Mer.

"Crans Sur Mer?" Harry asked, reading the tickets, "where the hell is that?"

"Dunno, we'll only be there for an hour and a half before our next train departs," he said shrugging and sitting down next to Harry on the bench.

Harry stuffed the tickets back in the envelope and placed it in his jacket pocket. "I still wished we could have gotten together with Hermione." Harry said sullenly. Ron just looked at Harry with a questioning look.

"What's up with you and Hermione?"

"What do you mean? She's our best friend, I just would have liked to see her because I know the internship will keep her busy-"

"No I mean- you're Harry Potter." Ron said obviously, holding his hands out.

"Well spotted mate."

"No I mean you're Harry Potter, you could have any girl you wanted. Here we are on this crazy quest to Germany and there are so many amazingly hot women that you could claim as yours with just one look their way; yet you are concerned about meeting up with Hermione."

"She's our best friend!" Harry tried defensively.

"You like her don't you?" Ron tantalized, smiling slightly. Harry looked all sorts of confused.

"Of course I like her and I hope you do to- she's our _best friend_."

"No, you fancy her," said Ron again smiling, and nodding his head up and down to try and make Harry see it. "Come on Harry! At the graduation party, you were on the rebound and you had countless girls, I'm sure, throw themselves and offer you favours, yet you denied them and hung out with _Hermione._ We're in Paris, yet you're worried about not being able to see _Hermione_. She's practically the only girl you ever talk to. Put the pieces together wonder-boy."

"You're delusional. I do not like Hermione like that, and she is not the only girl I talk to," Harry recovered, shaking his head in denial.

"Prove it then," Ron suggested, nudging his head in the direction of a bum. A lone bum bent over at the soda machine across the station. A _nice _bum in faded blue jeans.

"Fine, I will." Harry got up from his seat and smoothed over his shirt, gaining some confidence. He started walking toward the girl with the nice bum, whose arms had started banging on the machine. Harry snapped his fingers and out came a soda can twirling towards him. He bent down and picked it up, putting on a cool smile as he stood. His smile dropped immediately into a look of shocked recognition.

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, throwing her arms around his neck and holding on fiercely. Harry hugged her back, still not believing that this lovely bum turned out to be Hermione. _'I just can't catch a break.' _he thought meekly, as Hermione disentangled herself from him.

"Merlin, Harry, what are you doing here?" she asked smiling at him. All he could do was smile and hand her the soda.

"I figured you needed my soda-fetching abilities." he shrugged trying to put it off like this was his every day job. She laughed. _'Since when did her laugh make my stomach tingle?'_ Harry looked over to the bench where Ron and Neville who must have just come back from the loo were sitting. Ron's head was in his hands, shaking back and forth and Neville had his head cocked to the side in bewilderment.

"Well you definitely saved the day," Hermione told him referencing to the can. "Hopefully Krammer doesn't fire me on account of the dents."

Harry frowned at her, "Why would he do that?"

"Because he's a right fowl arse who hasn't had a relationship with an actual person let alone a women in more than 40 years." she informed him nodding her head. Harry looked at her concerned before she supplied, "Yeah, he stares a lot."

"Ew," Harry voiced. He couldn't imagine what it must be like to have some 75 year old dinosaur stare at you while your reading or while your bent over at a soda machine...

"Yep. Really though what are you doing here?"

"Uh, Ron, Leigh, Berlin," he said his eyes turned upward to think of a shorter way.

"Well that pretty much sums it up for me," she smiled at him. He grinned back at her, staring into her eyes.

"Granger are you done yet? How possibly hard is it to retrieve a drink from a machine, girl?"

"Er, that's my boss," she whispered turning around to meet a considerably aged man wearing a red scarf and tweed jacket. "Sorry Mr. Krammer, sir." she apologized handing him the can, "I ran into my best friend from school, this is Harry Potter."

"I don't care, I want you back to the table and re-reading the Luve papers until it makes you vomit, do you understand girl?" Mr. Krammer slapped the scarf over his neck and turned on his heel.

"I hope he can get around on crunches," Harry said, holding his right hand up, about to throw a bone-breaker curse at his leg.

"Harry," said Hermione, covering his hand in hers, "I appreciate it but you can't go around breaking people's legs when they insult me."

"Worked on Malfoy last year," he muttered under his breath.

"But this isn't school, this is my work." He looked at her like he was staring through her eyes and into her soul. "Okay if it makes you feel any better, I was thinking about resigning-"

"Really?" Harry asked excitedly. She nodded her head dejectedly. "That's great! You can come with us to Berlin!" She looked up at him pondering the question. "Come on Hermione," he pleaded taking her other hand in his, "this could be our last summer to spend together before work and the real world. And I want to spend it with my best friend- you. And Ron would definitely want you there when he meets Leigh, the bloke's a bloody mess about it. Come on, what do you say?"

She studied his hopeful face, _'Hmm, his eyes get brighter when he's excited.'_ She smiled, "I say-"

"Ms. Granger!" scolded an intolerant voice. Hermione slowly took her hands from Harry's and turned around to face her boss. "Ms. Granger, I understand that women have a much smaller attention spans then men do but when I tell you that papers from the Luve need to be revised, I mean for you to stop your little busy body from flirting with the whole station and read those damned papers, am I clear? I knew I never should have taken on an incapable woman."

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked murderously low.

"Oh no you didn't," Harry said from behind her bobbing his head back and forth. People disrespecting house elves was one thing, but Hermione _could not stand_ it when pompous men underestimated the power of women.

"Ms. Granger, is their a problem?" the old man asked uptightly pretending he had just said nothing wrong.

"Your the problem you barmy git! If it wasn't for you and your prejudice thoughts about women you might actually be able to run a successful business. That whole "most productive research firm" was from when MISS Alexzander was alive and you know it! Your work is _based_ off women. How can you think so low of them when really they do all the work for you?"

"You listen here you mindless tramp-"

Krammer let out a scream, falling backward on the floor. Something was poking through the side of his pant leg, and a small pool of blood was starting to accumulate around it.

"Well, I guess you can find a man to follow you around and correct your mistakes this summer. I'll be in Berlin." Hermione turned and grabbed the beaming and profoundly proud Harry's hand, guiding him off to find her luggage.

"Okay," Hermione whispered over her shoulder, "but that's the last leg you break for me."

A few things to mention; this is purely fiction and I hope no one takes offence if your French. And another thing I wasn't too happy with the way I brought Draco into this so please feel free to call me a dumb arse. I wrote that part at 3 in the morning after not kipping for a few days. Thanks to HHr Its what i believe, ginsensu, eternalsolaris, Silver Rain Drops, and again loaned!

Oh another thing, I haven't been able to get breaks in the chapter, so if anyone has any tips that'd be great.


	7. Silent Bob and Hairy Peaches

Disclaimer: I own nothing remotely related to Harry Potter or Euro-Trip.

Harry Doesn't Know

Chapter 7: Silent Bob and Hairy Peaches

…

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville sat in the plain compartment silently. Neville was looking through his guidebook (something that now Hermione highly disapproved of), Ron was reading over old letters from Leigh, and Harry and Hermione were sitting on their bench both reading the paper provided by the station reporting how frightening hooligans were terrorizing western Pairs. Neville fanned through the book a few times before stopping it on a random page and slightly rocking his head back and forth and started singing under his breath.

"_Harry doesn't know that Cho and me do it in my dorm every Sunday, tells him_- what?" he asked, glancing up to find everyone staring at him. Harry looked baffled at him. "You gotta admit, its a really catchy tune." Hermione tried to hide her bemused smile. Ron started singing with him, "_Tells him she's in class but she doesn't go, still she's on her knees and Harry doesn't know, Harry doesn't know-_"

"Buongiorno, and welcome to the Cosa de le Merde, may I offer you a complementary tart?" A tall man with boyishly blonde hair, dazzling white teeth and baby blue eyes opened the door wearing a square top hat and velvet vest. The residents of the compartment stared at the man, mouths open, and their song forgotten.

"Mr. Lockhart?" question Hermione, remembering to say 'Mr.' since he had lost his memory second year.

The man flashed the Gryffindors a bright smile, "Hello, hello. Are you an old client?" he asked pompously pushing his chest out. 

"Er, no. We're old students," she told him. She looked back at Harry who looked completely dazed.

"Are you now?" he asked ceremoniously, entering the compartment and sliding the door shut behind him.

"Uh, yeah," piped in Ron, "but that was like five years ago so you can-"

"Now, now my dear friends, don't be modest. I always have more to teach," he smiled at them, taking a seat in between Ron and Neville and patting Neville's knee. "They don't call me Silent Bob for nothing, as I'm sure you know. You won't even know what's happening."

"You know-" Ron started but was immediately hushed by Lockhart as he put two fingers over his moving lips.

"You won't sense anything."

"Whatever," Ron said twisting his head away from the man's rose scented fingers. _'Where the hell do you get your fingers coming out like the smell of flowers?' _Ron wondered, staring out of the window.

The compartment suddenly filled with darkness as the train passed through a tunnel. A few moments later, the tunnel had passed, Hermione had closed the paper, and somehow Lockhart's hand ended up on Neville's thigh. Hermione's mouth fell open as she elbowed Harry in the side enough to grab his attention and point him in her direction. Harry's eyes widened beneath his wired spectacles. Neville was unnoticeable still reading his guide book. Harry cleared his throat rather loudly. Neville looked up at Harry who was tilting his head in a downward motion. Neville sceptically lowered his eyes down to the manicured hand that was planted on his thigh. Neville swallowed and tried moving his leg around desperately, but Lockhart's grip remained firm. In fact he looked like he was getting quite comfy with the squirming Neville.

"Pardon me," Neville finally spoke quietly. Lockhart looked up to meet Neville with dark eyes and a slight grin. Neville nodded his head in the direction of his thigh.

"Oh, mi scusi," he said freeing Neville's thigh and looking around the other occupants of the compartment, " Mi scusi." Harry and Hermione nodded their heads, accepting Lockhart's foreign apology. Poor Neville. Ron and Neville shared a look over Lockhart as he bent down to pick up Hermione's old paper. Ron turned his head back to the opposite couch and back to Neville. Neville's eyes moved in the same position and back. They both sat back in their seats as Lockhart opened the paper and folded a leg high over his other. Suddenly both Neville and Ron leapt for the small space between Harry and Hermione, pushing and scraping to see who's bum hit bottom first.

"Haha!" shouted Ron triumphantly as he wedged himself tightly between an annoyed Harry and Hermione. Neville just stood there desperately. He looked back at the smiling Lockhart who patted the cushion next to him. An ultimate message for Neville _not_ to sit down but he sat down anyway squishing himself against the wall farthest from Lockhart.

Lockhart only scooted closer, smiled, and continued reading. Neville looked around until he came upon Ron pointing out the window. Another tunnel. Neville looked back to the three across from him with a fearful look. Ron waved his fingers, then darkness.

Hermione gasped when the compartment was lit up again. Lockhart was crouching behind Neville, his hands on his shoulders and giving him a feverent massage, if you could call it that. His eyes were narrowed and rolled back like he was having a massive orgasm.

"Wha-what the hell are you doing?" Neville was panicked, you could tell. He hurried to readjust his shirt and again scooted away from the man.

"Oh, mi scusi, mi scusi," he again apologized looking around at everyone. He looked at Neville with that same indignant look. He rubbed his thigh, "Mi scusi," he told him almost seductively. They were all in denial with what he was doing. Poor, poor Neville.

"No-no, no, no, no, no." Neville rushed throwing the man's gross and fake tanned hand of his trousers. Neville shook his head violently.

"Uh-oh," said Harry his eyes looking out the window.

"Uh-oh what?" asked Neville looking to where Harry was focused.

"Big tunnel." Harry announced looking at Lockhart who had raised one eyebrow queerly and wore a devilish grin. Neville levelled himself with the window looking out. Too late; darkness.

xx cue the intense stripper music xx

"Who's touching me? Harry is that you? This isn't funny! Who's touching me?! Harry?! Ron?! Hermione!!"

xx end stripper music xx

When light filled the compartment again a few moments later, Neville was crushed on top of a scared Harry, Ron, and Hermione, while the mysterious Silent Bob sat across from them, pantless, and taking a drag from a thin cigarette, "Who's first, hmm?"

The compartment door slid opened and out stumbled Lockhart, his pants flying after him. "Not very appreciative students," muttered Lockhart, bending over to retrieve his pants and picking out his zebra print underwear from his... He took a step forward to look through the next door and smiled as he pushed it open, "Buongiorno, and welcome to the Cosa de le Merde, may I offer you a complementary tart?"

"Alright, Crans Sur Mer, one of the hickest sodding towns in all of western Europe." said Ron, stepping off the train and setting his bag down. Harry, Hermione, Neville and him were the only people present at the unloading dock. The station itself looked like a wooden shed that had been to hell and back, with signs and posters peeling off the rotting walls. On the opposite sides of the train tracks was heavily wooded forest, dark enough to give Hogwart's a run for its money.

"I think its beautiful," commented Hermione observing the open scenery.

"Yeah, and you also think _Hogwarts, A History_ is worth reading five hundred and nine times," snorted Ron picking up his bag again and heading over to a sturdy looking bench.

"Lay off, Ron." Harry was stretching in the morning's sun while looking around the depot for any signs of human life. "Er, Neville what time do we board the next train."

"Let me check." Neville through his bag down next to Ron's and started pulling up his shirt.

"Easy there Neville, I think we've all had enough sexual exhibits to last quite a while, at least until we get to Berlin," he added with a small smile, snuggling in to his backpack that he was laying on. Neville ceased to pull his shirt back down. He was searching through a small looking fanny pack strapped to his stomach.

"Neville what the hell is that?" asked Hermione tilting her sun glasses down to get a clearer look.

"This," he started unzipping several compartments connected to the bag, " is a Krammer's travel belt. It's truly bullet proof. Krammer says if you have one of these nothing can be misplaced, and no crook can rob you of anything," he finished still searching through it.

"Except your dignity. You must have been dropped on your head as a baby," Harry commented, still looking at the bag like it was an interesting piece of art.

"Well actually, my uncle-"

"Neville, the tickets." inserted Hermione who had pushed her sun glasses back up the bridge of her nose. Neville resumed searching frantically through the pouches, taking out several pieces of paper and flipping through them to see if four tickets were hiding in it.

"I thought it was bullet proof," said Harry crossly, folding his arms next to Hermione.

"Uh-oh." Neville squeaked looking up with a blush staining his cheeks.

"What's uh-oh?" asked Ron sitting up from the bench and looking at Neville.

Neville opened his mouth, his eyes wide, "There's a hole."

"Jesus," breathed Hermione turning around and scratching the top of her head in frustration.

"What happened to bullet proof?" humoured Harry, who was bouncing on the balls of his feet, looking like he was having a jolly good time watching the show.

"This isn't funny Harry, what do you mean there's a hole?" Ron returned to Neville gripping his shoulders.

"There's a rip in the pocket I put the tick-"

"Oh that's just fan-fucking-tastic! How are we supposed to get to Berlin, let alone out of here now? Look around Neville, there's nobody fucking around!" Ron's face had turned beat red as he shouted at his offended and trembling friend.

"Ron this isn't his fault," Hermione reasoned, putting a hand on Ron's upper arm, trying to restrain him from another shouting round.

"Hermione-"

"Herm-own-ninny?" asked a Bulgarian voice coming from inside the abandoned station. Hermione turned to see none other than Viktor Krum step out from the rickety door frame. He had definitely grew since Harry had last battled with him in the Triwizard Tournament, and maybe even had his teeth straightened and whitened. He had lengthened his dark hair about an inch and had styled a small goatee on his prominent chin. Harry immediately narrowed his eyes.

"Herm-own-ninny!" he said again, walking over to her and wrapping his bear arms around her. Hermione returned to hug with equal force, "Viktor, what a surprise! What are you doing here?" _Viktor_ let go of her and gave her a toothy grin.

"My vamily has just bought vis station, ve are here vith some investors now. Vat are you doing here?" he asked in his heavy accent again looking her up and down. So far Harry had tamed the fiery dragon that was emitting fumes in his stomach,

"Oh, well, we're," she said taking a step back and motioning towards her boys who were just staring at Krum with their arms crossed, "trying to take the train. But you see we've lost our tickets, do you think-"

"Viktor, who is your loverly friend?" question an unfamiliar voice, similar to Krum's stepping out from the building. It must have been Krum's father by the way he presented himself, he looked like the exact duplicate of Krum, only an inch shorter and with deep greying hair. He wore a regal fur coat _('It's the middle of the bloody summer you wank,' commented Harry, shaking his head at the repulsive man.) _he also held a large golden staff, with a dark, blood red ruby, sitting fancily on top. He smiled at Hermione, showing off moulding yellow teeth. Hermione tried to hide her cringe.

"Hermione Granger," she told him trying to take another step back before he bent down and pressed a slimy kiss to the tope of her soft hand.

"Borislav Krum," he said, again nodding his head at her.

"Pleasure," she said trying to cover the sarcasm. She looked back to Harry, Ron, and Neville. Harry still had his arms folded with an annoyed look directed toward the Bulgarians, Ron had stretched back on the bench with an amused smile, and Neville was looking between the other two, not knowing what the hell was going on.

"Vather, vey need help. Vey have vost they're tickets and vey need transport."

"Er, yeah," said Ron leaping off the bench with a hopeful look, "We're trying to get to Berlin, and we lost our tickets you see so do you think you could help us out and let us board the next train?" Krum senior sneered at Ron, looking over his gangly appearance. He finally looked up into Ron's pleading eyes.

"Sure." He had drawn out the agreement with a mischievous smile. Ron let out a breath and smiled at the man.

"Thank-"

"Ve'll give you a discount. Ve'll only charge two hundred and thirty levs." His smile widened as he seen Ron waver. Hermione could tell Ron was about to curse the prat into next week. Hermione cleared her throat and gave Ron a threatening look.

"Do you have anywhere where we could convert some money?" Hermione suggested looking the man in the eyes. He smiled again at her, over looking her body. Harry's jaw clenched as he contemplated which leg to brake.

"No, I'm very sorry viss, ve are rejuvenating the station so ve yet to have the complementary assessments. You understand, don't you?" Hermione gave him a forced smile and nodded. Ron let out a thwarted breath while Harry cracked his knuckles and flexed his fingers, preparing to channel his magic. Hermione cleared her throat again, this time glancing at Harry. He shrugged, and relaxed his hands.

"Do you know where the closest currency conversion bank is?" Hermione tried looking between Viktor and Mr. Krum. Viktor had yet to speak, his eyes downcast in his father's shadow.

"Oh ves," there was that bloody smile again, "Paris."

"We just-" Ron nearly yelled taking a step forward, Harry close on his tail. Hermione elbowed Ron in the stomach making him struggle for air and shoot her a death glare. Hermione again forced a smile at Mr. Krum, "Well thank you for your time sir, Viktor," she said softly nodding her head in his direction.

"Anytime viss." countered his father, again bending down and kissing her hand before Hermione could respond. _'Ew, herpes,' _she thought vaguely, remaining the quivering smile she held. "And per'aps ve shall be seeing each other soon?" he asked winking at his son and stepping back into the building, his fur cape billowing after him. _'Over my bloody body you fucking sod,'_ Harry's eyes now furrowed in anger staring after ruddy bloke.

"Herm-own-ninny, vou look as bootiful as ever. I only vish there vas something more I could do, but my vather-"

"Oh please Viktor, it was your father's decision, this isn't your fault." she gave him a genuine smile as he picked her up again hugging her like she was a fading memory.

"Viktor!" shouted his father inside the station followed by a long slue of Bulgarian. Viktor turned to face Hermione again giving her a small smile, "Vell, I must be off. It vas good to see vou all," he said finally acknowledging the rest of the group. "I vill be here vor a vew more hours. My office is vight next to va ticket's cashier," he motioned his head to the side somewhere inside the shadowed room. "If there is anything else I can do," he finished the last part rather seductively Harry thought. _'Yeah, you fucking prat, you can hold still while I rearrange the bones in your face.'_ He let go of Hermione's hand and trailed into the building, the shadows enveloping his image. Hermione turned back to the boys, her cheeks slightly flushed. Harry still looked like he could kill with just one raise of his eyebrows. Ron looked at her dubiously.

"What?" she finally questioned, directing it at Ron with a shrug before Harry answered.

"What the hell was that?" he asked dynamically, flinging a hand in the general direction of the door, making the window crack.

"What was what?" she countered ignoring the simple power he held.

"_Him_!" he said with a strained face.

Hermione was getting angry with the one syllable answers, "Viktor?"

"He was trying to seduce you," he said flatly. Hermione scoffed and averted her eyes from Harry's.

"Please, Harry, a hug doesn't mean he's trying to get me naked."

"That's pretty much what _that _hug implied." he said with his eyes raised trying to make her realise fact. Hermione opened her mouth to respond when Ron held up his hands to stop the quarrel.

"Alright stop! Now we have a problem," he said obviously looking at his friends, "and there is only one way to solve this problem... Hermione has to seduce Krum."

"What?!" shouted a frazzled Harry and Hermione looking at Ron in bewilderment. Neville was still looking back and forth between the trio, not knowing what the hell to do.

"Hell no!"

"Ron you're mental if you think I'd do anything of that sort."

"Especially to Krum," finished Harry triumphantly. Hermione shot him another irritated look. Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked back at Ron with an unrelenting determined expression.

"Hermione just here me out." he said walking up to her and holding her arms. "You know I would never, ever, put you in a blind situation like this. It'll all be planned. You'll go in there- do your thing, and if there's any problems we'll be in there before you can say "Whoops I stepped on you fairy wand", which is what we will do if he tries to force anything."

"Did you just refer to Viktor's penis as a fairy wand?" she asked bobbing her head in disgust.

"Look, he said the office he'd be in is right next to the ticket cashier. We'll make some sort of distraction while you're in there preppin' him up and get the ticket lady out so one of us can get in there and print some tickets. It'll be a piece of cake." he finished with an optimistic smile. Harry was in the background showing his disapproval by shaking his head vigorously at the idea. Hermione still had an insulted look on her face.

"I'm not a piece of meat Ron!" she answered, imitating Harry and shaking her head. "It's a bad idea."

"It's a horrible idea- to even pretend that she has to like that scum! She wouldn't be able to do it. Viktor would see right through it I'm sure." Harry again had folded his arms across his chest making his muscles show through his thin shirt. _'Ignore it, Hermione'_, she told herself as she tore her eyes from his bursting pecs and gave Harry the most offended and displeased look she could muster.

"What are you trying to say Harry, that I'm incapable of being likable. That Viktor would see right through the plan because I could never be like that?" she asked in a low innocent voice. Harry wiped the smug look off his face and looked at Hermione.

"That's not-"

"Where do we start Ron?" she asked with such determination in her voice it made Harry want to... _'Ignore it Potter, this is serious.'_

_xxx_

"Herm-own-ninny? Is something va matter?" Viktor asked puzzled, as Hermione had stepped through his office and shut the door behind her.

"Oh nothing, Viktor. It's just the boys left to go get a bite to eat in town and," she leaned against the bookcase situated on her right, "I didn't want to get lonely." Viktor eyebrows crawled up his face as he gave her a exaggerated smile.

"Aw, vell perhaps I could be of service?" he asked rising from behind his desk.

"Perhaps," said Hermione impishly taking a step forward.

_xxx_

"Alright let's make this quick," said Harry following the path in through the door which Hermione had travelled. He had hated this idea, and the fact that Hermione was in there alone with the horn dog made it all the worse.

"Well wait mate, we have to come up with a plan, Ron how're your transfiguration spells?"

"Horrible, why?" he answered, Neville turning to face him.

"Well I don't know, I thought maybe someone could conjure a bear or something-"

"Look we don't have time for this! Hermione could be in there right now handcuffed to a pole while Krum has his way with her. Let's just go in there and play it cool with this lady. Have her print up the tickets, grab them and then run or something. Doesn't look like there's much security in there any way," Harry finished leading the way in. Inside the building was much the same appearence of outside. Signs and posters peeling from the walls, paint-chipped counters, and dirty carpet. "Handcuffs, huh Harry?" mocked Neville following Harry.

"Let's really hurry, I don't want to catch gonorrhoea or anything," commented Ron dryly, brushing off a fallen particle of dust that had landed on his shoulder. Harry sighed, again leading the way to a counter that read 'Ticket Cashier'. Behind the desk was a middle aged woman, who seemed to be staring straight ahead, typing furiously on an old fashioned type writer. Laying behind the woman was a large beagle, paws over his nose and wearing a green knitted sweater that said 'Fido' on top. The closer the three approached the higher the dog's ears inched upward, until the dog had finally snooted in recognition that someone was there. The woman stopped typing and gazed up, focusing on nothing imparticular, and looking right over the three boys that had frozen in mid step.

"Who's there Fido?" the woman asked in a high cherubic voice. She didn't have an accent and spoke perfect English, which made them believe she was American. Her eyes were an electrical blue, almost white in colour, and misty. Neville looked to Harry and Ron and mouthed, 'She's blind.' Ron smiled and rubbed his hands together. The woman seemed to have noticed because she jolted her head in Ron's direction, making Ron suddenly stop and stair back at the woman.

"Is there something I can help you with?" the woman asked in Ron's direction, still not fully recognizing Ron though.

"Um, yes ma'am. We need some tickets. We're trying to get to Berlin." braved Harry fully stepping up to the counter so he was in line with the woman. Ron and Neville followed, there eyes still on the woman's clouded over ones.

"Oh sure," she replied politely, absently grabbing for something on her desk, her hands spilling over various figurines and office supplies, "let me just check when the next train comes in." Her hand finally landed on a thick bounded binder that she dropped in front of her and flipped open, her fingers scanning the pages. Her eyes were still focused forward, but not really looking at anything. Harry looked to Ron who was staring at a jar of licorice on the counter top. Harry waved his hands in front of his face getting his attention. Ron looked at him confounded and shrugged. Harry nodded over to a gate that lead into the little office area and then to a printer on the other side of the gate. Ron again looked at him perplexed and shrugged shaking his head. Harry sighed. _'Get through that gate so you can grab the tickets when she prints them'_ he pushed his thought out of his mind and shot it toward Ron. Ron made a sour fish-like expression before turning back to Harry and nodding his head smugly like it was so cool to be doing something this criminal.

_xxx_

"Do you like yours hairy, Herms?" Hermione choked on the stale wine that had been offered by Viktor, mainly at the nickname.

"Excuse me?"

Viktor chuckled softly, "Your peaches. Do you like the fuzz on the peaches?"

"Oh, I don't mind really, either or is fine," she took another sip of the musty wine while Viktor handed her a peach, his hand lingering on hers for a moment.

"That's good to know, for _future_ reference," he gave her a shrewd grin before turning around to pour himself another glass.

'Dear God, hurry the hell up Harry'

Ron had made it across the gate and into the small office by the printer, all the while snacking on a piece of licorice. The woman's beagle was giving Ron the most adorable look he had ever seen a dog give. Ron smiled at the dog and bent down to reach it's hand out. The dog leaned into his hand, taking advantage of the Ron's carefree behaviour.

"Okay, your tickets are printing. Your just in time too, the train will be in here in about five, six minutes. You should be able to pick up tickets straight to Berlin from Amsterdam. Your total will be nine hundred and twenty levs even, if you'll just insert it here so it can be counted," finished the woman, pointing to a small metal box. The woman's other hand moved over to what looked like a small calculator machine with rigid little buttons on top and pressed four times.

"That's great, thanks a lot," said Neville with feign enthusiasm. He looked at Harry and shrugged, pulling his shirt up so he could dig out some pounds. Harry shook his head. He knew the box would say if there was a proper amount of money put in or not and he was sure that it wouldn't understand British notes. 'Stall', he mouthed to Neville and looked over to Ron who had bent down and was letting the dog lick his hand eagerly. Harry gave an exasperated sigh, '_Ron the tickets have printed grab them already!'_ He sent the thought to Ron who turned around moments later and whispered excitedly, "I love this dog!"

"Please do not touch my dog." said the woman, who had turned around in her chair and was giving Ron a spooky transparent look. Ron squirmed and stood up, his hand secretly making for the printed tickets that had slid out of the machine.

"Uh, he was hungry," Ron attempted feebly, grasping the tickets and stuffing them in his back pocket.

"Fido is a specially disciplined seeing eye dog, anything you feed and do with him could spoil his training."

Ron scoffed as he said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to devastate you or the dog," he slipped Fido another piece of the candy. The woman looked furious. Her misty blue eyes were bulging out of her head and her brows furrowed deeply. She raised on arm in front of herself and extended a finger to Ron.

Ron look taken aback, "Oi, that's not very nice you bloody-" He was interrupted by Fido who was giving a deep and low growling from the back of his throat, teeth bare, and the hair on his spine standing on end. Ron gasped and took a step back.

"_RON!_" Harry pushed into his brain. Ron jumped slightly, alerting Fido of his planned escape. Fido gave a threatening bark, which was enough for Ron to jump over the banister and run across the room, with Fido hot on his trail.

_xxx_

"Herm-own-ninny, I've always thought vou had ve most breaf taking chin." said Viktor approaching Hermione from across the room. Hermione was sitting in the chair opposite his desk, her peach left untouched and wine glass empty.

"Chin?" she asked plainly looking around. Viktor had come up in front of her leaving her very little room to slip around him.

"Ves, it is so plush, so exotic, I could stare at vour chin all day." Hermione covered her chin with her hand. Viktor smiled and leaned in.

"Herm-own-ninny," he muttered as his eyes fluttered closed. Hermione screwed her face up in disgust. '_Ew, ew, ew, ew, EW!'_

"Err- hey look what's that?" she said trying to muster her best awe stricken voice she could think of as her head was currently craned about three inches past the back of the chair in order to avoid Viktor's _breathtaking_ chin. Viktor turned his head around and gasped out a strangled cry. He crumpled to the ground grasping at his right leg. Hermione peered past Viktor, searching for someone to be there. Harry disillusioned himself from the corner, looking more angry then the day they had brought him to Grimmauld Place beginning of fifth year. Hermione let out a relieved breath.

"'Bout time, did you get the tickets?" she asked calmly getting up from the seat and stepping carelessly over Viktor who was still on the ground staring furiously at Harry.

"Yeah we got 'em." he replied, trying to hide the crack of anger in his voice. _'Nose down, Potter, nothing happened.'_

"Okay then, let's get the bloody hell out of here," she said turning back around to face Viktor. "Sorry," she tried, much to Harry's displeasure. "_Obliviate_," she muttered flinging her hand in his direction. Viktor immediately slumped to the ground out cold, his short term memory gone.

"Should have let the bloody get suffer," Harry muttered as Hermione grabbed his hand and left the office, shutting the door neatly behind her. Hermione stopped abruptly, letting Harry bump into her.

"I think it's time to go!" yelled Ron as he was dashing around the room, trying to hide behind various rotting benches and dead potted plants. Neville had managed to make his way up to the ceiling rafters and was currently hanging from one. A loud shrill whistle interrupted Hermione from her musings.

"Trains here," said Harry unworriedly, making his way out onto the boarding deck where a train was resting. An old man had stepped off the train yelling for tickets. Harry and Hermione made their way to him waiting for Neville to quietly slip from the roof and discretely make his way out. The three stood their for a moment, their eyes focused inside on Ron and Fido, who had not given up on chasing Ron.

Back and forth they went past the door four times before Hermione finally yelled, "Ron, quit lolly gagging around and let's go!" Ron sprinted through the door frame, Fido trailing by a few feet, shoved the four tickets at the conductor and leapt onto the train, rushing into the cabin area. Hermione, Harry, and Neville followed shortly after being approved by the conductor and now calm and quiet Fido.

"Next stop, Amsterdam!"

_xxx_

_Thank you for the reviews- now go review again!!_


	8. The Bad, Bad Rastafarian and the Not Mis

**Disclaimer: I don't own nothing. **

**Harry Doesn't Know**

**Chapter 8: The Bad, Bad Rastafarian and the Not Misfortunate Robbery**

**WARNING: **language, Dutch prostitutes, hash brownies, and fake accents. Also, beware of drinking carbonated beverages whilst reading ;

**P.S.- part of the reason it has taken me soo bloody long to update is because of I hate their formatting. End rant.**

**&&HPHG&&**

Hermione closed her book and let it lay on her lap. She looked around the cabin. Neville and Harry were both sitting on the bench across the cabin, heads lolled back and overhead lights turned off. Harry's head turned slightly so that his cheek was now pressed against the cold window pane. He had his arms folded loosely around his middle, and in Hermione's mind, he looked absolutely adorable. She smiled to herself before Ron's shuffling paper interrupted her. Hermione's attention turned towards her ginger haired best friend seated next to her, overhead light on and eyes wide open. He grinned to himself, seeming to be totally engrossed in a thick stack of old parchment. His body shook with silent amusement before turning to the next page.

"Reading some of Leigh's old letters?" Hermione ventured, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.

"Oh, er... yeah. I was," he answered sheepishly, starting to fold the papers. The compartment went silent for a moment, the only source of sound coming from Neville's pitched breathing. Ron let out another low chuckle, "You know she said I might be the one?"

"Like, the _one, one_?"

Ron let out a bemused breath before looking into Hermione's eyes, then back down to the pile of letters. "Yeah, she said she had a pretty good feeling about it because the Ignacian acromatulas had hibernated early this year," Hermione raised her eyebrows at Ron, " I don't know, it must be a German thing but, now that I think about it, it's probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me."

Hermione slouched back into her seat. This was probably the most heart-felt conversation she had ever had with him, that didn't include quidditch, or Bertie Botts every flavour beans. And honestly, she was proud of him. Ron had the disposure of being a lazy, kind of egotistical, male really. She had always figured that Ron would be a playboy until he was 35. But looking into Ron's eyes now, after he had spilled his heart to her about some women he had never even met, she couldn't help but think he had changed. Hermione laughed softly, making sure not to wake the opposite side of the cabin. Ron gave her a bewildered look before she spoke.

"Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

Ron smiled shyly at her, "I know it's weird, and I'm a pansy-"

"No, no, no Ron, it's anything but weird... it's love."

Ron gave her another shy smile, his eyes finding then end of his trainers rather interesting. "Yeah, but I just can't help to think that I've mucked this situation up royally."

Hermione sighed, shoulders sagging and her body still slouched in the seat. She felt partially responsible for what he did. Sure she didn't make him drink all that fire whiskey the night of graduation, but she did load the ammunition in the gun by telling him about the hole 'wind chime' thing and what did she expect Ron to do, not shoot? She was always right, and then how could she be so wrong about this Leigh woman? Ron looked up at her, "I have, haven't I?"

"Ron, you listen to me," she had sat up in her seat and grabbed both of Ron's hands that were twitching and fiddling with the old letters, "Yes, you made a mistake. But what's so great about making mistakes is that you can learn from them, and most importantly you can fix them! And that's what you're doing now, you've dropped your summer internship and bravely jumped into a situation that you don't know the outcome of. What you're doing is incredibly brave, and it's all for Leigh. When she realizes that..." Hermione blinked. How could she finish that sentence when she didn't know what Leigh would think when Ron showed up at her door? Hell, she didn't even know what the girl looked like! She knew what she _wanted_ her to do when Ron got there, and hell if she didn't give her best friend a second chance with her she vowed to take a leaf out of Harry's book and brake the slag's stupid German leg. "Everything will work out Ron, you deserve this. You deserve to be happy." She let go of Ron's hands and leaned back in her seat confidently.

_Everything would work out fine._

Hermione paused, watching Harry hug himself tighter around the middle and lean into the window more. '_I hope I wasn't loud enough to wake him…'_

"What about you?" Hermione tore her gaze from Harry to look at Ron. His sea blue eyes were boring into Hermione's searching her face for any kind of response.

"What about me?"

"Don't you deserve some happiness too?"

"What are you talking about, I'm perfectly happy." She didn't know when her eyes had somehow drifted back upon Harry's peaceful form (_'Traitors,'_) but Ron definitely seemed to notice as he too had looked at Harry, then back to her. "What?" she asked agitated. Ron shrugged his answer. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes before she forced them to look away from Harry. _'Bloody hell, why can't people just stop hassling me about Harry! First it's Ginny, telling me that we're a little too "close" for just a platonic friendship. Too close my arse! Me and Harry have always been close, it's just who we are. Then it's Lavender and Parvati, those slags, trying to say we touch too much. I can't help it if we're always in such close contact, damnit! We are mature young adults, we can handle skin to skin contact for Merlin's sake. Then, it's my mum who's owling me asking me if I'm ever going to bring "my charming boyfriend Harry" home. I don't think mum's first experience with a howler was a splendid one. Even Cho Chang, that mondo slag, had the guts to come up to me and ask exactly what my relationship with Harry was, and why he was always so protective of me. I'll tell you, she's lucky Harry came in when he did because she was very close to receiving the same curse her friend did back in fifth year. I'm not too sure Harry would've really appreciate that much...'_

"Earth to Hermione," chanted Ron waving his hands in front of her face. Hermione jerked her head, coming back from her internal musings and looked at Ron.

"Huh?"

"I just thought you might like to know you're about ready to tear your book in two."

Hermione looked down to see her knuckles a pearly white, and her fingers having a tenacious hold on her book on magical elements. She let go immediately, allowing her book to drop to the floor. She watched her hands return to their normal colour before Ron turned off his light and curled up in the corner of the compartment, head resting against the window.

"Night, 'Mione."

"Night Ron."

**&&HPHG&&**

_'Oh. My. God.' _

_These three words have been wavering in and out of her brain for as long as she could remember. Her eyes were closed, and all that she was aware of was the soft and then hard, fast and then slow licking, kissing, and massaging that was being bestowed upon her sex. She let out a low moan as something wet played with her clit. She wanted to open her eyes to get a look at her surroundings. That was before something started pumping in and out of her, making her surrender all thoughts of rationality. _

_She arched her back, "Oh, god... don't stop." _

_She didn't know where she was._ 'Must be in Amsterdam somewh- Oh. My. God!' _She curled her toes and gripped at the satin bedding as spasms of pleasure raced through her whole body. She let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding and tossed her head back roughly against the soft pillow. She was panting, trying to regain stable breaths when she felt hands climbing up her body. She could tell someone had popped their head out from the covers and was now resting on top of her. She released the wad of sheets that were balled up in her hands and moved them to her forehead, still trying to find a regular pattern of breathing. The person on top of her chuckled._

_"Need an oxygen tank, do we?"_

_Oh. My. God._

_Hermione peeled one eyelid back. _

_"H-Harry?" _

_"Hermione." He grinned at her. The type of grin the makes you want to tackle him on the bed and tie his hands to the bedposts so you can have your way with him. She opened her other eye and just stared at him, mouth agape and shocked expression. He was still grinning, which made all of his features more delectable. Like his extra-messy raven hair, dark emerald orbs showing lust and passion and something else Hermione didn't even want to take a guess at. His scar was hidden by his bangs, but was still a mere pale marking on his soft skin. He had some faint stubble on his face. Hermione reached a hand out to touch his cheek, her thumb running over the stubble. He grasped her hand and kissed her palm, still with that sly little grin of his. _

_"How- whe- wha-?" Hermione tried, but couldn't make a complete sentence. Her mind was reeling from this being Harry all along and her body still twitching. _

_Harry gave a low seductive chuckle, "Am I that good?"_

_"Yes." she answered automatically. _'Traitor.' _she thought to herself. Harry's grin grew into a smile as he climbed up higher and positioned himself on the side of Hermione, both his arms pulling her waist closer to him._

_"Good, because I'd like to do that every day of the year for the rest of our lives." he placed a small kiss on her cheek. "Leap year included."_

_"Uh- okay." she gasped out as his hand travelled up to cup her breast. "Do I-"_

_"You don't have to worry about returning the favour, but if you don't mind, I'd like to start stitching little elf hats and scarves, be an advocate for S.P.E.W, and if it's not too much trouble buy you new books when ever I have the chance. Maybe I'll buy a bookstore for you?"_

_Hermione gulped. He was being so sweet and innocent, how could she say no? "Uh, okay."_

_"Great!" he exclaimed, planting a kiss on her lips. He kissed her again, this time a little more forcefully. "Mi bello," he whispered as he kissed his way across her cheek and to her ear. "Mi bello," he dipped his tongue in her ear making Hermione giggle from the tickling feeling. _

"Mi bello," said a husky voice. A small hand grabbed the other side of Hermione's face as a rough tongue slid from her neck line to her hair line. Hermione's eyes shot open in a matter of nanoseconds and her head shot to her right were the boyishly blonde hair and baby blue eyes of one Professor Lockhart was sitting quite comfortably, his mouth open and tongue ready to slide out again. Hermione gasped and took a lunge back into Ron, making him grumble in his sleep.

"Lockhart!?!" By now Harry was awake with alert eyes and Neville next to him shaking his head trying to get rid of the sleep. Harry stood up immediately with a menacing glare when he realized what was going on.

Lockhart grinned, letting out a laugh trying to ease the mood, "Mi scusi?"

The steel compartment door slid open, and again out stumbled a pantless Lockhart.

** the drug and sex capital of Europe." Neville said lightly, taking in their surroundings. They had walked some ways from the station, not too overly excited with what they had seen so far (trashed allies, boring buildings, etc.). But then again it was only around 6:30. By the time they had walked from the station to where they were now the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, people were piling out from what looked like abandoned buildings, and neon lights were now shining brightly over them. Oh, those provocative neon lights...**

Ron nudged Hermione in the side, "See, now this is beauty Hermione."

Hermione stood in between Harry and Ron, her backpack held dangling from her right hand. Her amazed eyes shown the reflection from all the lights. "I won't deny that, Ron."

"Damn, I was trying to get a 'you're right' out of you."

Hermione smiled and looked at him playfully, "Never."

Harry cleared his throat. "All right, the train doesn't leave until tomorrow, so where are we going to stay tonight?" The four stayed quiet for a moment, looking between each other. After a moment or two of silence, all eyes settled on Neville.

"Well, guidebook, we'll leave this to you." Harry clapped Neville on the back, making Neville's knees buckle.

"Er, okay, I'll just..." he pulled out his Krammer's and started flipping through the pages.

"Okay now, we don't have all night. Neville, within your possession lies the guidebook, therefore this is up to you." Ron had walked up behind Neville and threw an arm around his shoulder, "See that little bakery there?" He pointed down the street to a sign with glowing red, green, and yellow light saying 'The Ganja Bowl'. Neville nodded his head in understanding, "Right well, meet us there when you're done- I'm positively starved." Ron finished with a clap to Neville's back beginning to walk down the street.

"The Ganja Bowl? Are you joking?" Hermione was shaking her head back and forth, staring after Ron in disbelief.

"You know, Ron- always thinking with his stomach." passed Harry nonchalantly.

Hermione gave Harry one of her don't-even-go-there looks. He answered with his award winning puppy eyes before quickly following Ron down the street.

Hermione scoffed and glanced back at Neville. "Men," she turned on her heel, striding to catch up with Harry.

"Um, okay, see you later!" Neville shouted after them. Ron had already entered the cafe, and Harry and Hermione looked to now be in a heated discussion. Neville sagged his shoulders helplessly, turning around to face the rest of the city. "Okay, here goes," pulling out his treasured guidebook, he began walking down the unpaved street looking for any signs of shelter.

**&&HPHG&&**

Ron, Harry, and Hermione stood unmoved inside the entrance to the Ganja Bowl. A haze of scented smoke and neon lit signs were lighted throughout the bakery, making it seem some what of a relaxed atmosphere. It was half-full, with people that looked more like locals then foreigners. The waiters wore fat multi-coloured beanies covering their long braided and dread locked hair. Their eyes were misty and round, and all were wearing happy and content smiles.

"How may I help you man?" asked a mirthful deep voice from behind them. The three spun around to find a tall dark skinned man with dread locks and one of the trademark red, yellow, and green beanie's staring back at them. He smiled again, "Hi there."

"Hi. We're lookin' to get something to eat," proclaimed Ron. Hermione scoffed at his forthcoming.

"Ahh, man, you came to zee right place I tell you! Now we is having a special on zee bakery's _special_ brownies."

"That sounds excellent right now," said Ron rubbing his belly.

"Uh, Ron-" tried Hermione, before being interrupted by the all too cheerful waiter.

"A good choice sir, right zis way," smiled the man, taking a handful of his pants and pulling them up to his chest before having them slowly slide back down again and taking the lead off into a secluded corner of the bakery.

"May I ask where y'all's is from?" asked the man over his shoulder.

"England," Hermione told him, not expecting Ron to get his mind around the enticing aroma of food to properly answer him. As soon as she spook the man stopped abruptly and turned to face her. He grabbed her hand and with his round red eyes looked unblinkingly into hers.

"I'm sorry." By the tone of his voice the trio could tell he had meant it. The three looked flabbergasted between themselves before continuing after the man and sliding into the booth he had stopped at.

**&&HPHG&**

Neville turned a street corner, his nose still embedded in the guidebook, no luck finding an up and open hotel so far. He had a run in with what Krammer's referred to as 'The best youth hostel in Amsterdam', but something had told him the rest of the group wouldn't be as susceptible to 'The Kinky Shoe' like others were...

_Neville stopped outside of the door to The Kinky Shoe, the best youth hostel in Amsterdam. So far all looked good, and clean most importantly. The door wasn't hanging off its hinges, the sign wasn't flashing in and out of light, no trails of hung-over people's vomit on the cement steps, etc._

_"Well here goes," muttered Neville, closing the book and opening the door. With a small chime the door opened and emitted Neville into the small reception room. Light mews filtered through the room, and looking around he realised about twenty cats frolicking, playing, hissing, and doing their cat business right on the rug, two chairs and desk that filled the area. Signs and posters were hanging stationary from the walls, giving the motel a suitable appearance. Even if one of the signs was a lighted stick figure taking a piss on the word 'Abstinence'. Neville gasped innocently before taking another brave step farther into the room, making sure to carefully step over the two cats that looked dead out of breath, panting furiously. Neville approached the counter, waved his hand skilfully through two cats that were giving each other death glares, and chimed the small attendant bell sitting next to a brochure of the best sex clubs nearby. _

_"Hello," replied a plump woman enthusiastically, springing from behind the counter. The woman looked as if she was wearing all the colours of the rainbow, with a red bra peaking through an orange halter underneath a yellow poncho and finally a light green jacket on top. Fake metallic blonde and bright pink braids sat on top of her balding blonde head. She had a cheerful sweet accented voice, the type of voice that sounded like it had been through years of voice training to get rid of the masculinity. Neville gulped. "...And welcome to Amsterdam's finest, and most _luxurious _youth hoshtel." Neville noticed how she wiggled her eyebrows when she spoke 'luxurious'. "We feature one medium shized room, containing seventy beds, which can shleep up to 375 bodies a night." Neville's eyes widened and his mouth dropped in shock. The woman smiled as she continued, " There is no bathroom, nor is there one nearby." Neville looked dumbstruck when he realised she was completely serious, "If you do not wish to have your valuables stolen, I shuggest deshtroying them or dishcarding them right now," she nodded her head up and down at the last two words. Neville gulped again. "You can also try hiding your valuables... in your anus." A cat in the background meowed violently. Neville's eyes were bulging, his mouth slightly parted. "This will deter some but not all thieves. Once your inshide, the doors are chained and locked from the outshide. They will not be opened again until morning _no matter what_." Neville jerked his head to the only other door in the room. Sure enough, four locks lined their way down the door. Neville slowly turned his head back. "Should a fwire o-ccur, due to the faulty vwiring or the fire-works factory upshtairs, you will be incinerated, along with the valuables you have hidden, in your anus." The woman gave a cocky smile with one wiry eyebrow raised, like she had just given a bloody declaration of independence. Neville, once again gulped, for lack of better communication. "Tips," she exclaimed with hands raised and showing of her few yellow teeth, "are greatly appreciated!"_

_The next thing Neville remembered was sprinting out of the hostel and running as fast as he could down the street, distancing himself from the woman's adam's apple and the lingering smell of cats._

**&&HPHG&&**

"Oof!" Neville reached his hands out to balance himself. He grabbed hold of the waist of one very annoyed looking woman. The woman was skinny as a rail, wearing a short mini skirt that would give Cho a run for her money and a small transparent belly shirt. She wore a black satin bra underneath the makeshift shirt, that Neville had found his face buried into.

"Ahem," the woman cleared her throat irritatedly. Neville tore his face away from her bosom, and forced himself to look into the woman's sharp pale eyes. The girl had a pointed face, much like the features of Draco Malfoy. She wore a great deal of make up, bright red lipstick along with curly black eyelashes and light blue eye shadow. Looking very closely you could see a dark mole on her upper left lip. Neville straightened himself out as the woman looked him up and down and then smiled at him.

"'Ou are an American?" she asked struggling with her English.

Neville fidgeted, "Er, no- I-I'm from England."

"Ja! Amerikaan!" said the woman gesturing wildly. She now wore a huge smile, revealing dazzling white, short teeth.

Neville stuttered and began moving his weight back and forth on his feet, "Erm, alright."

"'Ou looking for za place to schay, ja?"

"Oh, yes, yes I'm looking for a place to stay. And I have some friends as well-"

The woman giggled seductively, "Don't vwe all?" She took a step towards him and sent one long finger with a five inch finger nail glued to it rubbing down his sternum. Neville could only fidget in his spot, letting out a small laugh as the woman still stared intently at him. "I know of a _grrreat_ hostel, that should be... eh, very, _accommodating _for 'ou." She again smiled, giving Neville a full view of her pierced tongue.

"Zi am Natasha," said the woman, her hand still on his chest. Neville coughed nervously.

"Er, okay. I'm Neville. Lead the way," he gestured a hand in both directions. The girl violently grabbed at his right arm, and started tugging him down the neon lit street.

**&&HPHG&&**

"Here you goes man," said the man coming back with a platter of dark brownie squares. Hermione was squished in between Ron and Harry who were staring at the food.

"Ah, thank you good sir!" said Ron automatically grabbing for one as soon as the plate was set on the table. Hermione nudged him in the side as Harry laughed at him.

"Where are you manners, Ronald?"

"What? I said ffank foo," he replied, not even finishing his sentence before stuffing another large square in his mouth. He chomped at the brownie twice before swallowing the remains. As the food made way down his esophagus he raised his eyebrows. "Whoa," he looked over at Hermione and Harry who were staring intently at him, looking for a culinary report whether to take a bite themselves, "scrumptious." He finished, eyes roaming back over the food and taking another mouthful.

Harry laughed at him, lifting his hand to grab one for himself. Hermione gave him an unpleased look as he raised it to his lips. He waggled his eyebrows at her and defiantly bit into it. He too was shocked by the everlasting chewy great taste.

"Man, it's wike a foufull of feaven!" Ron was still astounded, working on his fifth square. Just as he swallowed and Harry grabbed for his second, he looked over at Hermione, who sat unphased by the treats. "C'mon Hermione try one!" He shoved the plate in her direction. Hermione only pushed back against the booth, as if the plate contained anthrax or something.

"I think I'll pass, Ron."

"Hermione, will you stop worrying about eating a chunk of sugar and saturated fat and all things unholy and just take a bite, we're on vacation for Merlin's sake!"

Hermione sighed, watching Harry neatly take another half of a brownie. _'At least he's not devouring them like an animal... like someone else I know...'_ She cautiously glanced at Ron who successfully succeeded in stuffing twelve squares in his mouth, perhaps a restaurant record.

"Fwaitor! Fwe are g'na need a'other forder!" Once Ron finished, he again looked expectantly at Hermione. After a couple seconds of a staring contest between the two, neither blinking and amazedly Ron not eating, Hermione sighed and Ron grinned his infamous Cheshire grin. Hermione looked to Harry for support, but unsurprisingly he was giving her the same look.

"See here Hermione, if you don't get off your high horse and willingly take a bite of a brownie," as if on que the man showed up, baggy pants and all, setting the brownies on top of the old plate, "Harry here will tranquilize you and force it down your throat."

Hermione crinkled her eyebrow and looked sceptically at Ron. Ron nodded confidently then looked over at Harry and snorted, making both of them wail in laughter. Hermione scoffed and shook her head.

"Men," she said as she reached her hand and snatched the top most brownie, hesitantly taking a small bite. She chewed it slowly, as if it were poison before swallowing and gasping out loud, " Jesus this is delicious." Harry and Ron both roared in laughter, each taking two more and quickly placing it inside their mouths. Hermione had already finished hers and was grabbing for another.

"Fee! Fee 'Erminee! I fas fwright! Der date fwright?!" Ron was talking rather loudly, his head nodding up and down and fingers splayed out on the table. Hermione shook her head defiantly and looked at Harry smiling.

"No, Ron. I said they were delicious, you said they were scrumptious. Those aren't the same words," the last part was finished in a giggle as Harry let his head drop loudly to the table, shaking with laughter.

**&&HPHG&&**

"Um, Natasha, are you sure you know where this place is?" Neville managed out as the woman who had him gripped by his arm was continuing to drag him down a never-ending dark ally.

"Ja, ja! Ve ares only takings ze scwhortcut," she answered not looking back at him but continuing forward.

_'Jeesh, who would expect such force from such a petite lady?'_ Before Neville could have another thought he was being jerked sharply around a corner, making him stumble into another woman. The woman in which he ran into stiffened, but held out her hands to catch Neville. This time it wasn't _as_ embarrassing, at least his face wasn't pressed against her breasts, but his left hand sure the hell was. Natasha scoffed, clearly irritated at the woman. Neville glanced in her direction and saw her with a pouty expression and a puffed out bottom lip, giving him an image of what Malfoy might have looked like when he was three and got the stuffed dragon instead of the stuffed pony at Christmas.

"Er, Neville, would you mind removing your hand?" Neville gasped and looked into the face of the woman who had spoken to him in such a familiar voice, a slight French twist but covered up with years of practised English.

"Gabby!'" he practically shouted making Fluer Delacour's younger sister jerk back from the volume.

"Neville," she answered, glancing down at the hand that was still firmly pressed against her breast.

He immediately took his hand of her with a small 'oh' and a hurried apology. She laughed it off, glancing at the fuming Natasha behind her, "So Neville, what are you doing here?" She had finished looking Natasha up and down before turning to Neville expectedly.

"Hermione, Harry, Ron, and I... well, it's a long story, but basically Ron fell in love, needs to get to Berlin, and we're just along for the fun."

"Oh, well that about sums it up, eh?" Gabrielle and Neville shared a laugh before Gabby took another glance at Natasha, "Some fun you must be having?"

"Oh her? She is just showing me to a hotel where we can crash at for tonight," Neville smiled at her. It had been a few months since they had owled, Neville being so busy with his NEWTS and Gabby a new exchange student at the new Mt. Olympus in Greece. He remembered how he almost hyperventilated the last time he saw her. He was so scared to ask her to Bill and Fluer's wedding a year ago, almost deciding not to go when she came up to him the night before and asked him to escort her. He answered yes immediately, and a little loudly, making some of the garden gnomes at the Burrow stir up. She giggled at his giddiness and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek before departing.

Neville didn't sleep much that night.

"Er, Nev, your in Amsterdam, the drug and sex capital of Europe, I don't think you're going to find a place to _sleep_ tonight."

By now Natasha had had it up to here with this goody goody whore. "If vou don't vind, ve were going somevher." Neville tore his gaze from Gabby's lovely face, her soft baby blue eyes, and delicate angel blonde hair, to give an annoyed look at the pointed and pale, dull eyed and burned frizzed hair that was Natasha.

"Actually I do mind," answered Gabby for him, "he's not interested in your services, thanks." Neville gave Gabby a confused look, but she continued to smile at Natasha.

Natasha let out a loud screech, her long finger nailed hands curling into fists, still staring into Gabby's calm eyes with her dark and now flaming ones. "What do vou know vou French whore! I'm sick of vou slag's coming to our city and taking all ov our clients!"

"Hey, let's just be a little civil, shall we?" interceded Neville, finally finding his voice.

"Neville, she's a prostitute. She wasn't taking you to a hotel but to her pimp's notorious sex club, where she would have gassed you and turned your genitals into a wind chime."

Neville's face burned slightly red when he heard he was about to be taken to a sex club, where women just openly flaunted their sexuality. '_Hell this is Amsterdam, I'm sure they all flaunt their sexuality on public benches. Hell the cats weren't even afraid to show it off...'_

"Wait I thought that was only-"

"German women aren't the only kind." Neville looked fearfully at the prostitute who was now giving a him a horrendously big grin.

"Ah, but I 'ave been vound out. Well, since you shall not be paying vor my schervices you vill be paying vor my company and time." Both Neville and Gabby glanced at each other, utterly confused, and slightly worried of what the tramp might do. Neville felt a slight tug at his lower abdomen but passed it off as nothing.

A few seconds passed of them waiting on the whore before her smile grew impossibly wider, taking out a large looking fanny pack from behind her back. Neville's hands immediately went to his stomach to find the padding of his travel belt missing.

"My currency colossomy bag!"

Natasha cackled before turning on her heel and disapparating, which left Neville sputtering, running forward to where she had disappeared and turning in circles to see if it was a joke, ready for her to pop out of a dumpster and yell 'Boo!'.

"What! She was a witch?!" Neville shouted into the air, not caring to lower his voice for passer-by's.

Gabby hadn't moved from her position, and was instead looking at Neville and shaking her head, "I thought I recognized her from Beauxbatons. Crack didn't really do her loads of good."

"Do you think we should go to those sex clubs looking for her? I mean I had all of our stuff in there. Man, Ron is going to kill me," he was squatting now, his fingers entangled in his hair.

"Nev, you're cute when you're worried." commented Gabby smiling. Neville glanced up at her clearly giving her a your-not-helping look.

"Oh, what Nev? There's probably a hundred sex clubs in this city, half of them not available to the public eye. That's why you have street prostitutes like her to lead you to them." Gabby was looking quite amused at his misfortune.

"I'm screwed."

"Come on, let's go get something to eat. You haven't even asked me what I've been up to, geesh," Neville looked up at her unbelievingly. She still smiled down at him, "Okay, I'll buy." He let a small laugh escape his lips before grabbing her hand and walking up the empty street.

**&&HPHG&&**

Five minutes and eight plates of brownies later (and also three attempts from Ron to shove his wand up his nose) found Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the same booth at The Ganja Bowl, Hermione sprawled between the two boys, her feet over Ron's shoulder and her head laying against Harry's chest.

Sometime during the eating-fest, Harry had misplaced his glasses. _'Or perhaps they had broken and fallen off from me banging my head against the table so many times.'_ The thought made Harry start up a fit of laughter again, ending in small manly giggles. Harry laughing, lead to Hermione giggling and wiggling in her spot, which lead to Ron shaking in his seat with a hand pinched over his face.

"What's- so... funny?" gasped out Hermione before beginning to giggle again.

"I don't- I don't know!" Harry let his head fall to the table again, making the pile of plates rattle, which made Ron shake harder and harder. Suddenly Harry stopped, causing the rest of the table to go quiet.

"I'm going to buy a Harley when we get back." Harry stated matter-of-factly, looking at Hermione and Ron with a determined look on his face. Ron split apart his fingers so he could see with one of his eyes to look at Harry.

"What's a Harley?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to buy one."

"Did you know if a horse throws up, it'll die?" asked Hermione placing a small hand on her forehead, still smiling what Harry thought to be a stunning smile.

"I've got the munchies!" shouted Ron to the restaurant, ignoring Hermione's random fact. Ron got up, leaving Hermione's two long, slim, cream coloured, _'Stop it Potter,'_, legs dangling in air. He ran over to the nearest display of food, which happened to be a young group of Swiss girls, took their side of chips and sprinted back to the table, stuffing his face as soon as his bum touched the apoulstry.

Harry slammed his hand on the table making Hermione jump and start giggling again, "Fuck buying a Harley when we get back, let's buy one now!" Ron laughed at him, chips spilling out of his mouth.

"You know I read somewhere that Bruce Lee was Hong Kong's 'cha cha' dance champion in 1958. Isn't that amazing for a man with such small feet?"

"Does anyone know where the nearest motor dealership is?-"

"Damn, it is so hot in here!" yelled Ron, cutting Harry off. He jumped onto the booth's seat and took his shirt off, rubbing his arms, forgetting about the half plate of chips that he still had left to eat.

"'Ey mans, is it time for zum more of ze special brownies?" asked the waiter wobbling up to them, now with a long pipe in his mouth.

"NO! No way! You! You gave us a bad batch of brownies! You are a bad, bad Rastafarian. God, it's so cold in here! Do you mind turning on a heater?!" Ron started turning in his place, looking for someone to do something about the temperature, whether he wanted it hotter or colder, he must not have been able to decide.

"Excuse me Mr.-" Hermione had now sat up in her seat, but was still leaning against Harry. She was giving the waiter her most puzzled look she could manage. He figured she was having trouble pronouncing his name, the state she was in. He smiled to himself.

"Rasta..." _'Hopefully that triggered something in her brain' _thought the waiter, taking a puff on his pipe.

"Mr. Rasta..." No such luck. Hermione now had both eyebrows successfully crinkled in confusion.

"-far-"

"Rasta-far..."

"-ian."

"Rasta-far-i-... Mr. Rastafarian. Have you ever wondered why dinosaurs weren't like...yellow! Or neon blue?! Personally- I think those archae-voodoowoodoo- whatever people, are full...of... shite!" She nodded confidently, looking around the restaurant. Many people were staring at Ron, who was well on his way of becoming starkers on top of a table a couple rows down. "Yeah, you Amsterdam-ianers... whatever... you people like the neons don't you? Mhmm, mhmm I can tell."

"DOES ANYONE KNOW WHERE I CAN FIND A FUCKIN' HARLEY AROUND HERE?!"

**&&HPHG&& **

Neville and Gabby left the small cafe together, holding hands and laughing at something funny Neville said.

Imagine that, Neville said something funny.

Gabby was beaming at Neville as she walked side-on-side with him. They wondered around for a while, walking through the more proper parts of Amsterdam, sharing secrets, talking about school and old memories and experiences. After about thirty minutes Gabby stopped at the entrance of a wooded path leading farther down through a abandoned park.

"Well, this is where I apparate back." Gabby was participating in a summer school camp, a program for the students in the exchange program. The rest of her group was staying in the ocean side town of Rotterdam, Holland.

Neville put on his saddest look, "Er… I-I thought you didn't have to be back for another hour?" He didn't care that he was really just robbed of all his valuables under an hour ago, he didn't want her to go.

She squeezed his hand and turned to face him. She was so close. Neville could feel her soft, warm breath hitting the base of his neck. He was a year and a half older with a couple inches on her, which gave him the perfect position to gaze into her eyes without getting a pain in his neck.

"I don't. You know," she said barely a whisper, looking up into his eyes, " if you wanted to kiss me right now, I'd probably let you." She let a small laugh at the look on his face, "Not that you're being particularly charming or anything," she added sarcastically.

"My Gran told me your not supposed to kiss the girl on the first date. Something about proper manners and being a gentleman or what not," he licked his lips nervously, smiling down at her.

"I think we're way passed that now," she grabbed the back of Neville's neck and pressed her lips forcefully against his.

…**.WOOHOO Chapter 8 out! **

**Ok, I'd like to say, no Hermione didn't get oral from that fruit Lockhart, nothing exceeded heavy licking :**

**YES- Harry, Hermione, and Ron ate HASH brownies! They WERE high! Hopefully that didn't confuse most of you.**

**& YES- Neville and Gabrielle get it on!!! In this fic she is only a year younger because I didn't want to make it Ginny because then I'd be pressured to add her in as a main character and I don't want to do that and also I didn't want it to be just some random person off the street because personally I think Neville would get scared of the girl and run for the hills… **

_**Thank you for the reviews- now go review again!!**_


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